


The War

by terianoen



Series: Loki's Truth [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Getting to Know Each Other, Insecure Loki (Marvel), M/M, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Trust Issues, mindcontrol, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:22:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28036869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terianoen/pseuds/terianoen
Summary: And now that Marvel has official released the article saying Loki was being mind controlled while trying to take over Earth, it’s time to make an official fic about it. So, what if, Loki’s mind control ended just a little too soon for the chitauri’s plan to work. And now he’s stuck not just on Earth but somehow with Tony Stark as his babysitter.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Series: Loki's Truth [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053698
Comments: 104
Kudos: 307





	1. Eyes Open, Head Forward and Where'd my Scepter Go?

**Author's Note:**

> This starts pretty much in the middle of the action for the movie avengers. It’s right after/during/before, however you want to look at it, they capture Loki. Except, they’ve knocked him out instead of him surrendering. This fic is the first of three parts. It’ll be a weird mix of movies and comic version of Loki's powers so stick with me and let me know if anything is too out there.
> 
> I'll be posting once a week on Saturdays.

Loki woke with his head a mess pain and short circuits. He could feel the bruise along the back of his skull where the Man of Iron's rockets had collided and brought him down. Really, if he had known the Iron Man was willing to do that, he would never have picked such a fight.

Loki leaned his head back against the ground, feeling the knotted tissue and bone heal itself back together even as he concentrated. It took him barely a moment before the pain was lessened, though still not completely gone. He found it annoying if nothing else. He should have been fully functional by now; he had not been such a fool when the chitauri had placed the scepter in his hands.

He'd let them warp his mind with hate and anger and jealousy until he could barely recognize himself. He had let them speak in his ear, and then he had let his mind become their plaything. And the worse thing was that he could have stopped it, but he had been too caught up in his own anger over Thor's victory and the Allfather's rejection to notice their manipulates taking place.

It was his own fault that he was here.

Wherever here was. He was in some kind of glass container, the walls and ceiling made of metal, but the sides a circular see-through glass all around. He stood, moving to one side and raising a hand as if to touch the glass.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice said, low and scratchy. Loki looked up and met the one-eyed man on the other side of the glass.

"Oh?" he answered. The man looked familiar with his eye patch and dark skin, but it was hard to place through the haze his memories had become under the influence of the scepter.

"One scratch and that's a 30,000-foot drop for you," the man raised a hand to the control panel in front of him, placing a finger down and watching as the floor under Loki opened up to reveal a blue sky and rushing wind.

"Impressive," Loki turned unimpressed eyes away from the man. It was so typically human, to think a cage such as this could hold him. And Loki was already bored of listening to the human talk.

The man cast him an odd look but turned to leave none the less.

Loki was alone for a long time after, sitting in the middle of his cell and feeling the hum of the sky beast under him. He felt the impulse to shoot his magic deep into the mechanics of it, just to teach the humans that they truly had less command than they thought they did. The action would hardly serve him any purpose, now.

He sat, and he meditated. The chitauri had threatened him with things worse than death if he were to fail, that much Loki could clearly remembered. He supposed if he were smart, he would just continue on his current path, give them the tesseract and then move on from Midgard, because he certainly no longer had any desire to rule these sniveling creatures so unworthy of him.

Loki snapped his eyes open, only just noticing the woman standing on the other side of the glass. He hadn’t even heard her walk up. She had bright red hair with some kind of sleek black clothes, and Loki instantly recognized the look in her eyes. She was a liar.

"There's not many people who can sneak up on me," Loki told her, not bothering to move from his position on the floor. Her eyes tightened, and she stepped even closer to the glass.

"But you figured I'd come," she answered, and Loki sighed. He felt he should know who she was, his mind grasping and tickling and reaching for something he _just_ couldn't find. It was beyond frustrating.

"Perhaps," Loki said, and she shifted. It was nothing physical, nothing obvious, but Loki was the god of liars, and if he didn't know how to read one then he'd lost his touch. Something he would never allow to happen, not if he would fall into a thousand traps and lose his mind a hundred times. "Why have you come?"

"I want to know what you've done to Agent Barton," she answered, and Loki felt himself frowning, falling back into the fog his mind had become. Agent Barton; he was sure he'd done something to an Agent Barton. He was even sure it hadn't been good, but the names were twisted together in his mind, making it hard to think, much less reach out and grab one individual name in the mess.

"Why must I have done anything to him?" he asked finally, though why he even asked, he didn't know. Of course, he did something. He always did something, even _he_ couldn’t claim to be anything near innocent. The woman shifted again, and yet this time it was more suspicious, more directed at trying to understand.

"You warped his mind," she said. "Nick Fury watched you," she turned her head away as if she couldn’t bear to think of it, but it was an easy trick to see through. "Just tell me what you'll do to his mind once you've finished. Once you've completed your grand ambition of ruling the world."

Loki's eyes tightened at the words. It was not true. He had never wanted world dominated. Sure, he remembered wanting the Asgardian throne, remembered being jealous enough to manipulate Thor into banishment—not that the idiot didn't _deserve_ it. But there was a difference between sitting on a throne and being loved and worshiped and sitting on a throne and being hated.

Loki had never wanted to be hated.

The hate had been forced on him, shoved down his throat until it was all he knew. He'd been mocked and laughed at and called lesser until it had become true, but he had never asked for it. Just as he had never asked for his tainted blue skin.

"If I wished to exchange conversation with you, I would have sought you out,” he answered, rotating around until his back was to the glass and the woman was out of his sight. "Leave me." He did not hear her leave but when he reached out with his hearing and magic, she was nonetheless gone.

He dimly hoped that he would not have to talk to another human again.

* * *

Tony didn't like when things didn't add up. No, ok, he hated it. Hated it with a blind and raging passion. So, when the scepter was sitting in his mini-lab giving off scans that didn't make sense, he wanted to throw the thing. Well, he wanted to throw the thing and then he wanted to understand what the hell was wrong with his scans or the scepter or his brain for not being able to put 2 and 2 and make 4.

"Tony, calm down," Bruce said. "I'm sure we're just overlooking something."

"No, we're not," Tony answered. "Because I'm Tony fucking Stark, and I do not overlook things." Bruce just sighed and went back to his own scans.

Tony couldn't let it go. It was as if the scepter had picked up a different frequency, fluctuating and buzzing in the air around them instead of warping what was around it. The frustrating part was, Tony _knew_ he wasn't imagining the change because during the battle with Loki, his suit had picked up preliminary scans of the scepter, and they simply didn't match what he was looking at now.

"That's it," Tony announced suddenly. "I'm going to go talk to him."

"I'm not sure you have clearance…" Bruce started, but he was already out the door.

Rogers was doing whatever captain thing Rogers did when integrity was called into question, and who knew where the fuck Romanoff and Fury were, hopefully nowhere near Loki's holding cell. Thor was probably still on the bridge, staring at the clouds with Coulson and getting all buddy buddy. It was sickening to watch, really.

Tony crossed the length of helicarrier without seeing any of his teammates and came to a stop outside of Loki's cell. The god's eyes were open, watching him with a cool wariness that hadn't been there when they'd been fighting. But then, Tony hadn't managed to knock him flat before either, so…

"I'm surprised you’re still here," Tony said, and Loki's dark eyebrow rose.

"How do you mean, human?"

"Stark," Tony snapped. "My name is Tony Stark. Or Iron Man if you really want to cozy, but none of that human bullshit. It's annoying."

"Very well, Man of Iron," Loki's lips twitched as if he'd told some humorous joke, but he was otherwise still, sitting crossed legged on the floor of his cell.

"Why are you sitting like that?"

"It helps me to think," Loki answered, and Tony resisted asking about what. He probably didn't want to know what went on in Loki's head.

"I came to ask you a question."

"You have my attention," Loki answered, standing smoothly. Tony watched as the god crossed over to him, dark hair flicked back and out of his face.

"What's wrong with your scepter?" he asked, and Loki's face flickered. Tony was sure he saw a frown cross the god's face, confused and curious, gone so fast he was almost twice as sure he'd hallucinated it.

"How could I possibly know what you’re talking about?" Loki answered, his voice silken and soft.

Tony was almost taken aback by how different it was than the voice Loki had used while towering over the crowd in Germany. In fact, Loki seemed entirely different now. Before, he’d shouted insult after insult, his face turned up in a petty smile, his eyes blazing with hate and defiance, he'd seemed so... Tony shook his head. He didn't know what Loki had seemed, but he knew that the man he'd seen could not have been sane enough to stand here and hold this conversation with him.

"Why do you shake your head?" Loki asked, his green eyes full of interest and caution. Wait—

"Your eyes are green," Tony told him, realizing only a second too late how crazy that must sound.

"Yes?" Loki blinked at him, long and slow, reminding Tony of a cat. "Is this some new human interrogation method I am unaware of?"

"They were blue before," he said, and was surprised when Loki stiffened, turning his head away like Tony had burnt him. "I mean, uh, I only noticed because they were like bright electric blue, but they're like definitely green now."

"Is this babbling going to a place, Man of Iron?" Loki answered.

"Well, it has to mean—" Unfortunately—or maybe it was actually fortunately, he never really got to find out—Tony was interrupted by the explosion that rocked through the ship.


	2. The Art of Exploding and Falling, All While Arguing Like Heroes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your kudos and comments!

Tony Stark. Loki could remember almost perfectly the red and silver. The Man of Iron who had managed to incapacitate him, a god. Now that he knew it was only a suit, it was only too easy to connect this to the man in front of him. When Stark had said his name, his memory had flickered and flashed, a bowsman with short brown hair speaking of the avenger’s initiative as Loki demanded the truth from him.

'Anthony Edward Stark,' Clinton Francis Barton—doubtless the man the red-haired woman had been talking about—had been telling him, his mind so tightly entangled with Loki's that he didn't have any more control of his actions than Loki did. Loki wondered vaguely if it was a waste of time to seek the man Barton out, but then he didn't even know how to release the man from his enslavement. The Other had been careful to keep that particular piece of information away from him.

'He has the Ironman suit,' Barton had said. 'He's a genius, a billionaire, funds a lot of SHIELDS operations. Though if it comes down to it, Fury' Loki got a flash of the man with the eye patch—had to be, he had the aura of a leader. 'will have to think the situation is pretty dire to include Stark in the Avengers initiative. He's considered too volatile, reckless, doesn't play well with others.'

Loki could see how Stark would be considered volatile. The very fact that he'd would be talking to Loki was proof of it. There was no way he was supposed to be. Besides, his questions had been too personal, too curious. Or perphaps it was simply a new way to interrogate that Loki had yet to learn. He didn't know much about questioning a prisoner besides blood and pain, for that had always been the Asgardian way.

Loki could understand Stark's nature. He was obviously smart; to even be able to remotely tell that Loki's eyes were different, much less pick up that his scepter was acting differently. It was fascinating. But then Loki had always understood chaos and nonconformity better than was deemed appropriate by anyone.

"What did you do?" Stark demanded, scrambling to his feet and then taking several large steps away.

And Loki was reminded again that just because he understood and did not hate did not mean others were not afraid and did not hate him.

"I did nothing," Loki answered, turning away from the Man of Iron. He was aware that it was only half-true, but the part of him that was still angry and hurt did not care about truth—had never cared much about truth in the first place.

He heard Stark grumble something and then there were footsteps, and when Loki looked again, the man was gone.

* * *

The helicarrier was a mess of confusion. Tony was running toward his suit, dodging people who were running down the hall and talking to Jarvis through his earpiece. He vaguely heard something over comms about Fury and Hill being pinned down on the bridge and cursed.

The helicarrier tilted, and he heard another explosion rip through the ship. There were screams all around him, but Tony was already running as fast as he could. Romanoff was yelling over comms about the Hulk being loose, and Tony was lost somewhere between desperate and furious. He needed to do something about this, and he needed to do something _now_.

He'd finally reached his suit, stepping into it and telling Jarvis to assess the damage on board the helicarrier. It wasn't good. The bridge was in flames, Nick Fury and Maria Hill still being shot at by someone, though it was clear that it wasn't Barton anymore. Jarvis reported Thor was now dealing with the Hulk, but it was the engines that were the real problem. The helicarrier was falling and fast.

"Stark!?" Rogers was yelling in his ear, and Tony was just now hearing it over Jarvis' report.

"I'm heading to engine three, Rogers," Tony answered. "Meet me there."

* * *

Loki was stuck between pondering what was happening and trying to remember what his plan had been. Well, it hadn't ever really been _his_ plan, anyway. He remembered something about causing the metal contraption to fall from the sky, something about releasing the green beast, but now that he found himself firmly stuck aboard the flying monster with no immediate way off, he rather hoped the plan didn't succeed. Although from the way the metal floor was tilting beneath his feet, his hope didn’t seem as if would be answered.

He froze when someone neared his cell. It was one of the drones he'd created, electric blue eyes locking onto Loki for half a second before turning away, apparently deciding he wasn't a threat. Loki watched the drone leave with wider eyes than he would admit out loud; surely it hadn't been the plan to _leave_ him here, locked up and at SHEILDS' mercy. If they had any.

He knew he could remember part of the plan to be freeing him. Could his disconnection from the scepter have really caused the drones he'd created to act so differently? If so, how much of the original plan had been changed?

Another explosion was rocking the ship, and they were falling faster than before. Loki _knew_ with absolute certainty that there was no way of saving the flying thing now, and he was not going down with it.

He stepped into the middle of the cell, his hands spread wide as he let a curtain of magic seep through his fingers. The cell immediately responded, loosening its hold and threatening to release him into a free-fall from the ship. He felt a shiver of fear spike through him but pushed it roughly down. He was Loki, prince of Asgard, god of mischief and chaos. It was not in him to be afraid of something as insignificant of a tiny fall from a flying mortal contraption. So, he pushed more and more, until the glass around him gave a loud crack. He inhaled sharply, and gave one last push, delighting in the way his magic rippled through his body at no one's command but his own.

The contraption holding him groaned once, and then let him go. He just managed to catch one glimpse of Thor's horrorstruck face before he was tumbling through the air, wondering how in Hel Thor had even gotten to Midgard with the Bifrost broken. Not that he should have been surprised; Thor would have done anything for his precious humans.

The thought was bitter and painful and just enough to make him not care about the fear as he hurtled much too fast toward the ground.

* * *

Tony was too late. There were too many soldiers already stationed at the engine, and Rogers couldn't have fought them all alone. Which left Tony to help, which left the engine unattended for the few vital minutes it took for a third engine to blow. What was, obviously, bad for everyone involved. They were descending too fast for Tony to do much more than hold onto the helicarrier and wonder what the fuck they were going to do now, because he, genius that he was, had no more ideas.

"We need to evacuate," Fury said over comms. "I already have people boarding the Quinjets. Whoever's left, head to the deck."

Tony followed Rogers through the ship. Romanoff met them somewhere on the way, climbing on board their ship and watching it close with as pained an expression as Tony supposed she was capable of. Their Quinjet took off seconds later, and they watched as the helicarrier continued to fall. Tony turned away, his face plate lifting. He didn't want to see when it finally crashed.

"What happened to Fury?" Rogers, Mr. Ever Perfect just had to ask. Tony, who just wanted to stand in a corner and pretend this had never happened, frowned at him.

"He got on a Quinjet before us," Romanoff answered, her red hair in tangles around her face. "I think we were one of the last to leave."

"Did you see what happened to Thor?"

"No," Romanoff sighed. "Last I saw he was fighting the Hulk, but he's been suspiciously silent since then."

"Well," Tony answered, shifting and trying to avoid the mood he could feel flexing to encompass the lot of them. "With the mighty warrior Thor claims to be, I'm sure there’s no way Hulk could best him in his drapes." Rogers turned to him, his lips turned down in a deep scowl. It was a rather impressive scowl. Well, for Mr. Perfect anyway.

"Now isn't the time, Stark."

"Then when is?" he shot back. "When we're getting our asses handed to us?"

"Well, maybe we wouldn't have if you'd have shown up sooner," Rogers answered. "As a matter of fact, where _were_ you? What took you so long? It was like you just vanished until the first explosion went off and then you were so far away!"

"I was busy," Tony answered, turning away from Rogers, which only seemed to annoy him more. Which was good, because Tony was good at annoying people. He _lived_ to annoy people, especially people who drove at his nerves and demanded to know things he already didn't want to talk about.

"Well, maybe if you hadn't been so busy, we could have saved the helicarrier," Rogers said.

"Hey," Romanoff said, stepping closer, but Rodgers was just getting started.

"All you care about it yourself," he said. "I've seen the footage. You just run around doing whatever you want whenever it suits you." He stepped forward, as if that would intimidate Tony. "You're not a hero."

Rogers said it as if it was the worst insult he could think of, but it made Tony want to laugh in his face. He didn’t need Rogers to tell him what he was reminded of daily. He knew he wasn't a hero, as much as he pretended to be, as much as he liked to be praised and paraded around, he was selfish, and he was arrogant. And he _liked_ it. He wasn't about to apologize for who he was, not to someone like Rogers.

"A hero?" he answered, returning Rogers' step until they were nose and nose. "Like you? There's nothing heroic about being an experiment. Everything special about you came out of a bottle. At least I can claim that my genius is my own."

"And where does that genius get you, Stark? With a world full of people that hate you?"

"Well, at least I didn't spend 70 years frozen in ice, because I couldn't think of anything better then crashing a plane into an ocean," Tony answered, and he could tell by the flash in Rogers' eyes that he had finally gone too far, but it probably felt a little too good that he had managed to make Mr. Perfect not so perfect after all.

The shield collided with the front of his armor, sending him flying back against the side of the Quinjet. He heard the unmistakable sound of metal bending and then the air was rushing in, sweeping them off their feet. He closed the face plate of his suit, watching as Rogers grabbed a hold of a seat strap to keep himself grounded, and Romanoff strapped herself into the copilot's seat. The pilot grunted, struggling with the controls as he landed them.

It was a hard landing, sending the Quinjet spiraling against the ground and colliding with a loud thud that send a painful ripple through Tony's suit. Then the ramp was sliding open, and Rogers was stumbling out, followed by Romanoff and then the pilot, and Tony was right behind them. He stopped short when he saw Fury's scowl. Hill and Coulson were right behind him, looking at the wreckage of the Quinjet before turning to scowl at their group.

"What happened?" Fury demanded, and Tony decided it was best to let others answer when Fury was looking like that.

"Rogers and Stark," Romanoff answered, moving to stand immediately beside him. Fury let out a loud gust of air, raising his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"We just lost our helicarrier—the best tactical advantage we _had_ ," he looked up, his one good eye glaring. "And you two are arguing like children?"

"Sir—" Rogers stepped forward, his face already a mask of guilt.

"I don't want to hear it," Fury snapped. "I do, however, want to hear _some_ kind of good news," he paused, waiting. Everyone avoided his eye, the silence palpable, and even Tony felt bad for him. In that one microscopic moment. "Nothing from Barton, Romanoff?"

"I saw him, but he managed to get away from me," she answered, her eyes shifting and turning away.

"And what happened to Loki?"

"His containment cell dropped sometime before we started evacuating the ship," Romanoff answered. "I'm sure he's back with Barton, planning his next move by now." Tony frowned but said nothing. It didn't make sense that the containment cell had dropped; why wouldn't Barton have just let Loki out? And why had the scepter been acting weird? And why had Loki's eyes suddenly changed colors? He had too many questions and not enough answers for anything to make sense.

He _hated_ when things didn’t make sense.

"The scepter?" Fury asked. Silence, and he sighed loudly. "Then we can assume Loki has that as well. What about the Hulk; what happened to him?"

"I saw him fly off the helicarrier at one point, I think," Rogers answered. "He must have crash landed somewhere."

"Great," Fury said. "Just great. I needed a mess this big to clean up," then he turned on his heel and began walking away, muttering to himself. Hill gave them one last look before following.


	3. Tumbling Through Family Affairs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, I've updated two chapter this week, so make sure you check in with chapter two and three and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Warning: mentions of past attempted suicide, references to mind control, mind control

Loki was falling, tumbling through the sky. Almost as soon as the cell had fallen loose, the glass had shattered around him, leaving him free to tumble through the air. He watched the ground grow closer and closer, his clothes rippling around him. He was reminded belatedly of when he'd let go of Thor's spear on the Bifrost.

Odin had looked at him with those disappointed eyes, the eyes that had never seen someone who could be equal to Thor. Loki had known what he'd done was wrong, but he'd wanted to be able to look into Odin's eyes—just once—and see the same pride that Odin had for Thor directed at him. And if he'd got to kill Laufrey, and punish Thor along with that, then it could only be a bonus. He should have known that Odin would only ever see Thor.

So, he'd chosen to fall, and he chose to fall now. He'd been guilty then, and he was just as guilty now.

Something snatched the back of his clothes, wrenching Loki back and up. Lightening flashed, and suddenly the sky was dark. Loki looked around, wondering at what he was seeing and half-wondering if he'd started to hallucinate. But no, Thor really was swinging Mjolnir in one hand and gripping Loki with the other. They were still falling, Loki's weight dragging Thor down, but they were falling in a controlled way now. He didn't know whether to be relieved or angry.

The next minute, they were touching down, Thor shoving him roughly to the ground while standing easily himself. Loki groaned and glared up at him, raising his upper body while his legs stayed splayed out on the ground in front of him.

"What have you done?" Thor asked, his voice booming and loud, and Loki _almost_ just reached for his magic to shut the oaf up.

"A great many things," Loki answered. "You'll have to be more specific."

Thor's hands were on his collar dragging him upright, and Thor’s eyes the same stormy fury he had always had before battle. The same look that had gotten them both into trouble but only ever Loki punished. The look that had eventually made Loki hate him.

"I thought you dead," Thor told him, and now there was a light in his eyes. Loki presumed it was supposed to be the light of honor or some such nonsense. Perhaps he was supposed to start crying and begging Thor's forgiveness now.

But the Other had not warped his mind from nothing. They had only intensified the bitterness and the hate and anger.

"Did you mourn?" he answered, and even he could hear the bitterness in his voice, but Thor just frowned at him as if he was truly confused. Not that Loki was particularly surprised. When one had the intelligence of Thor, they were bound to be confused often enough. Loki had evidence enough from when Thor had stared after his magic or scorned him because of it. Even after it had saved his life.

"We all did," Thor said finally. "Our father-."

"He is not _my_ father," Loki snapped. "And you are not my brother." He shoved away from Thor, who didn't even stumble. It was still enough to calm Loki's temper so he could turn his face away and smirk as if he couldn't care less about the secret his father had kept from him his entire life.

"Your parentage does not make you any less my brother," Thor answered, and Loki could only laugh at those words. At the stupid innocence Thor always seemed to portray.

"I will not argue matters of fact with you," Loki said. He took one step, two steps away, but Thor was already there, gripping his shoulder, standing in his space again and refusing to be ignored.

"Then what would you do, Loki?" Thor asked. "Take the world I love as recompense for your imagined slight?"

"Do not seek to scold me as if I were a mere child," Loki answered, pulling away from Thor's hand. His disapproval still hurt, it stung in that way that only Thor seemed still able to draw out of him. It was ridiculous that he should even still care that Thor could think him so evil.

Because wasn't it true? Had he not been doing exactly that? Sure, there had been a nudge and a push, but it was still _his_ feelings that had led him there.

"I have seen worlds you have never known about," Loki continued, shoving his feeling aside, and channeling his anger until there was only hate left to meet Thor's pleas. "I have endured things you cannot even begin to imagine, and you would not wish to. You have no leave to think me a child when you stand there with your empty of words of—"

"What mean you?" Thor interrupted, stepping uncomfortably close again. He looked at Loki intensely, and Loki suddenly wanted to squirm, to move away from Thor for fear he would see, for fear he would _understand_ —as he had so many times when they were children—the fear in Loki's heart. Loki still had enough pride left that he did not want anyone to see how weak he had been. "What things? Who showed you this?"

"I…"

"Loki, what misdeeds befell you after your fall from the Bifrost?" Thor pressed, and Loki was suddenly falling again, though there was no Thor to catch him. No, Thor had been the one to push him. But then, Thor had always been the one to push him over the edge and leave him to drown in things he knew he'd already lost.

He felt himself a child again, looking up at Thor and pleading with him to protect him. Thor placed his hand lightly on Loki's shoulder, asking what had happened and promising he could fix everything. Thor had been his whole world, his savor, and the brother he could always count on.

And then there were the sounds of approaching engines, rockets coming nearer, and Loki knew their time was up. He looked at Thor. The innocent boy's image of Thor had been burned a long time ago. He'd destroyed it along with his love for Thor and his desire for a family.

"Loki—" Thor warned, seeing the change on his face, but it was too late. Centuries too late.

* * *

Once Tony got in the air, it didn't actually take very long to find Thor and Loki. They were just south of the crashed helicarrier, a little bit away from the still smoking remains of the cell that Loki had been imprisoned in. Tony wondered idly what the story behind _that_ was. Surely, if Loki hadn’t been the one inside the cell, he wouldn’t still be hanging around, but if Loki had been in the cell, why wasn't he a Loki-smudge?

As Tony neared them, he could hear the scattered bits of conversation, too low for him to really make out what they were saying. Thor was standing with his back to Tony's approaching form, his hand on Loki's shoulder but restraining him in no other way. Loki was facing him, and even with his face encased in the Ironman suit, Tony could see the change on Loki's face when he saw him.

He had been looking up at Thor, his face drawn, tired even. Tony hadn’t known gods could look like that. Did they get tired? Well, anyway, Loki _looked_ that way. Then he'd seen Tony, and his face had closed off with a snap Tony almost heard.

"Loki—" Thor started, but even Tony could tell it was too late.

Tony saw the flash as Loki raised his hand, and he wasn't sure where the dagger came from, but Tony knew he wasn't going to make it in time. He kicked his thrusters up, and he was barreling toward them, but he could only watch as Loki plunged the dagger between two plates of Thor's armor. Thor grunted, hunching over the blade as Loki stepped away from him.

"You can't save me," Loki said, his voice so low Tony wasn't sure he was supposed to hear. Hell, he wasn't sure _Thor_ was supposed to hear. "Not this time."

Loki turned away from him as Thor went to his knees, drawing the dagger out with shaking hands. Tony spend a relieved moment taking in the fact that Thor didn't really seem to be badly hurt before focusing back on Loki. Loki, who was now turning away and waving his hands, muttering something under his breath.

Damnit, Tony thought SHIELD had done _something_ about his fucking magic, but evidently not, because the world evidently hated him. Loki, himself was shimmering green, flashing in and out of existence. He didn't have time to so much as move though before Tony was colliding with him, sending them both sprawling through the dirt and grass, and then with a whiz and a pop, he felt the world go black and green around him, and he knew—because the world apparently _really_ hated him—he'd been swept into whatever spell Loki had been trying to accomplish.

* * *

"What do you mean gone?" Director of SHIELD Fury asked, and Thor could only shift his feet in front of the man. He still had Loki's dagger sheathed along his leg, though the wound his brother had given his was all but gone. It had barely pierced through his armor, leaving Thor with the impression that Loki hadn’t been _trying_ to injure him. Only distract so he could get away.

"Loki was intent on teleporting and—" Thor started.

"Yeah," the human, Romanoff, answered, leaning on the command table next to Fury. "Since when can Loki _teleport_? Shouldn't we have _known_ that?"

"I thought you did know of it," Thor answered, shifting again. In truth, he had not thought it important. On Asgard, magic had never been something he’d spent time considering. It hadn’t been something his father had encouraged, and he’d never understood Loki’s fascination. It was only recently Thor realized how many times Loki had escaped _because_ of his magic.

“And what do you mean _Stark_ went with him?” Fury asked. “Even if Loki teleported, how did Stark go with him?"

"I…" Thor scratched the back of his head. "I am no magic user, but I would say Stark interfered at a critical time during the teleportation and got dragged along."

"So, Stark is with Loki," The Captain, Rogers, said. The man was still in his red and white gear, and Thor wondered briefly how such stretched cotton could be comfortable.

"I would believe so," Thor answered.

"Then we need to find him," Romanoff said, and Rogers nodded at her. "Him and Banner." Thor was still as Fury began barking orders, and the command table was suddenly alight was activity. He simply fingered the dagger strapped to his leg.

It was not that he did not want to find his brother; he did. It was that he had a feeling that things were not so simple as they would have liked to believe. There had been a look to Loki's eyes. The same look Loki had right before he'd let go and let himself tumble off the Bifrost. Thor did not know what it meant, but he knew it was not the look of the brother he used to know.

* * *

They're legs tangled together and sent both Loki and the mortal tumbling to the ground. Loki groaned; his lips pressed against foul smelling Midgardian dirt before pushing himself up. The Man of Iron was laying almost directly on top of him, which he would have complained about except that they could have ended up in much worse shape. Did Midgardians not _know_ the dangers of interrupting a teleportation in such a way? Loki and Stark could have ended up with their organs switched or something equally unpleasant.

Loki shoved the now dead suit off him, knowing he only had a matter of time before the human inside would get out of it. He stood, taking his time to looking around. He wasn't exactly sure where they were, somewhere dry and hot. Still on Midgard, which wasn't surprising; he hadn't been trying to leave. There would be no point in leaving only to be taken by the Other again.

Suddenly the suit was opening, the face plate popping up and the man inside gasping, eyes wide as he stared up at Loki with something close to anger. Exasperation, maybe. It was so hard to tell with humans.

"Glad to see you’re still around," Loki told him, and he supposed it wasn't _not_ true. It would have been annoying to have the avengers to after him because he sent their comrade off world. 

"Where are we?" Stark demanded, which Loki really didn't think was the most pressing question the mortal could have asked but then there was no accounting for taste. "What happened?"

"You interrupted my escape," Loki answered, and Stark stared at him as if he was speaking a different language, though he was quite sure he wasn't. He would have noticed.

Then Stark's hand was reaching up, clasping something around his chest and pressing, and his suit was suddenly opening fully. The man sat up, shoving himself out of his suit and stepping away from it as if it wasn't his only means of protection. He narrowed his eyes, his expression full of suspicion.

Which really, Loki wasn’t the one who had gotten them into this.

"Where we are?" Stark said.

"Midgard," Loki answered, and then he was looking into the mortal's eyes and reaching into his mind.

It was absurdly easy, but then it always was when Loki was dealing with people who didn't know any better. He'd always thought it had been an infernal weakness that people just assumed they were safe because _they_ didn't know about something.

How many times had he invaded Thor's mind, convinced him to do something he wouldn't normally do, broken past a random Asgardian's barrier and made them believe something that wasn't true? It had worked wonders to cause all sorts of messes that had made him able to sit back and laugh. Of course, he'd never been suspected because poor Loki was weak and incapable of doing anything but hunching over his books and muttering.

It was child's play to enter Stark's mind.

He brushed aside the memories that assaulted him. Alcoholic, absent parents, loveless father who held him to an unreasonable standard, egocentric, thirst for adventure, for knowledge, passionate. Loki didn't care, wasn't looking for who the man was.

He reached further in, shifted to the side, snapped his fingers in a bright green light, and _warped_ Stark's world. Hypnosis was always harder like this. It would have been easier with the scepter the Other had given him but then he neither had it nor any desire to touch it ever again. It wouldn't last forever; the length of time always depended on the strength of the person's mind, and it always took a large portion of energy out of Loki.

The trick to it was being able to warp fundamental thoughts. The scepter would make the person into a virtual slave, regardless of what the actual person believed or felt, they would act how they were supposed to. Their whole personality was shoved to the side and replaced with something else. Loki could vividly remember what that had been like.

Loki, himself couldn't do anything of the sort. He couldn't change the whole person, nudge a few individual ideas out of the way, encourage a few misbehaviors, sure. He could play and change and warp a few pieces, but not the whole mind. No matter what he did, the person would always stay fundamentally the same.

So, he warped. He changed Stark's idea that he was the bad guy. _He wasn't_ , he whispered into Stark's mind. _Loki wasn't a bad guy. In fact, he was Stark's_ friend _. SHIELD was the bad guy, and Loki_ needed _his help to stop them._

He felt the resistance for half a second, a second, two, it pushed, and he pulled and then there was a snap, and Stark's mind bent under Loki's, and he knew he had won. He pulled away from Stark with a feral smile, watching as he blinked confused brown eyes first around him and then at Loki.

"Where are we?" Stark asked, and though he'd asked the same question only minutes ago, the accusation was gone from his voice, replaced by only curiosity.

"Lost," Loki answered, and Stark blinked at him, and then frowned. It was a rather practiced sarcasm; Loki couldn't say he could have done better. Stark really had all the hard lines, and skeptical disapproval all down to a T.

"That's real specific there," the mortal told him. Loki just shrugged and started looking around for anything that would be helpful to bring along. Of course, there really wasn't anything. He supposed, the suit could be scavenged, but then _he_ didn't know anything about it, and he didn't exactly want to arm Stark should he suddenly snapped out of the spell Loki had put him under.

"We should go," Loki said.

"Go where?"

"Away from here," Loki answered, eyeing Stark warily. "SHIELD will be coming." It worked like a charm; Stark was suddenly at attention, looking around warily for any sign of danger.

"Yeah," he agreed reluctantly. "Yeah, fine, just let me take a look at my baby." Loki blinked at him, but it was clear what the mortal was talking about only a moment later as he stepped up to the battered suit.

Loki shifted his feet uncomfortably, but there wasn't much he could do. He couldn't risk dissuading Stark for fear something would click in his mind and the mortal would come out of the spell, but it still made him… not uneasy, but wary. Yes, wary was the word.

Stark spent a long-time hovering around the machine, pulling something out of the inside, and fiddling with the pieces before he turned back to Loki, whistling lowly under his breath.

"Your magic really did a number on my suit," he said, and Loki tensed. "It's completely fried. I couldn't even get Jarvis to restart up again."

"Hmm," Loki answered, unsure who Jarvis was. Perhaps Stark had named his suit; the mortal seemed strange enough to do such a thing.

"Well, I don't suppose we could take it with us?" Stark asked hopefully, and Loki hesitated. He truly didn't want to; however, who knew what the man would be able to do with it. Perhaps he might just find a use for the suit that would help Loki more than he'd thought.

"You think you can fix it?" Loki asked, and Stark's smirk was more than enough answer.

"Baby, you know I can," Stark said, and then winked at him, which left Loki staring and blinked and wondering what exactly he'd _done_ to the mortal's mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't be too angry with Loki, and please stick with me. Tony doesn't stay under his spell too long!


	4. Mind Games with Friends—or do You Prefer to be Called Reindeer?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos. Don't forget to share your thoughts!!

"How do you not know where we are?" Tony complained for probably the hundredth time. His feet hurt, his legs hurt, his throat hurt. And he was tired of walking, but God forbid Loki stop and take a break for even a second.

They were trekking through some kind of desert, taking turns dragging the Ironman suit. Though every time Loki took the thing, it was obvious he had no trouble, and Tony couldn't for the life of him understand why the man was making him drag it at all. Though he kind of figured, Loki _had_ only agreed to take turns at all because Tony had complained until his ‘ears had started bleeding.’ They hadn't seen anyone so far, the whole countryside around them seemingly completely abandoned.

"Well," Loki half turned his head to look at Tony, never losing his grip on the makeshift sleigh thing around the Ironman suit. "When someone interrupted my spell, it caused me to lose my focus. Hence the lack of directional knowledge."

"You tried to take over the world, and you don't even have a spell to send a GPS signal or something?" Tony muttered, and was startled when Loki turned toward him abruptly. Tony stopped, wondering what he'd said wrong; he didn't want Loki to be angry with him. They were friends. SHIELD was the bad guy, and Loki needed his help to stop them.

"What did you say?" Loki asked. He didn't _seem_ angry; he seemed surprised, if anything.

"Nothing," Tony said, just to be safe, and Loki’s green eyes narrowed. "You never told me why your eyes were green and not blue," Tony blurted out, and then winced when Loki's said green eyes widened at him.

"Why are you asking me that?"

"We're friends," Tony answered, almost immediately. "Friends ask each other things." Though he knew even as he spoke that it wasn't _entirely_ true. He'd never pestered Pepper about things like that, and he was _dating_ her.

The truth was, he was curious, insanely curious. He wanted to know what the hell was going on with Loki, because it was obviously something. He also knew people didn't always respond well when you said you were just curious. For some reason, people tended to want a little more of a personal connection.

Looking at Loki though, Tony wondered if he'd chosen the wrong tactic. Loki was looking at him as if he'd lost his mind somewhere back where they'd crashed through his wonky teleportation. So, Tony figured a little reverse psychology was always on the table.

"You don't have to tell me," Tony shrugged. "I'm just curious." Loki's eyes immediately narrowed as if he knew exactly what Tony was doing.

"Then I won't," he said, which hadn't _really_ been Tony's goal, but Loki was already walking away from him. Tony scrambled after the god, hurrying to keep up with his longer stride and succeeding in making his legs hurt worse. Honestly, would it be so bad to take a like a five minute break? Loki could use his god magic and conjure Tony a massage or something.

"Seriously," Tony complained. "Can't you teleport us somewhere else? You know, preferable with water? Or even just somewhere cooler. I’ll take what I can get, you know."

"Do you _always_ talk so much," Loki grumbled.

"Part of the charm, Reindeer Games," Tony smiled rather charming, which was somehow lost on the now scowling god.

"What did you call me?"

"Reindeer Games," Tony waggled his eyebrows. "You know, cause of the horns."

"What?" Loki's scowl was turning heated fast, and this was a bad thing, it was a very bad thing because... Tony frowned as the words were slower coming to him this time. They were pushing against his skull, and he shook his head at the uncomfortable pressure. "Something wrong, Stark?" Loki asked smoothly, baring his teeth in a rather elegant threat.

"I don't know," Tony frowned up at the god. "Headache, I guess." Loki turned away from him again, resuming his long-legged stride across the barren landscape.

"We should get moving," Loki told him, and Tony only frowned as they continued on their way.

* * *

"No sigh of the Ironman suit?" Steve asked, and Natasha just shook her head, never looking up from her computer.

"Nope," Natasha answered. "It's completely offline.” She looked up, meeting Steve's eyes. He looked worried, more worried than Natasha really thought wholly necessary.

Of course, Loki was dangerous, but she'd worked with Tony. He was resourceful and smart, and if any of them could think their way out of that situation, it would be him. Besides the fact that Steve and Tony had been on the verge of a fist fight not 3 hours earlier.

"Wherever they are," Natasha said, her eyes narrowed at the computer screen. Not that it meant she didn't wish she could do _something_. "They're on their own."

"What about Banner?" Steve asked.

"Nothing there either," Natasha answered. "Though beyond giant green men running around, I'm not really sure what to look for."

"Damn," Steve said, and Natasha got the feeling he was more upset about just the general facts.

She had to agree. It did sort of seem like the whole mission was coming apart under their feet. She didn't say anything though as Steve sighed once more, nodded to her, and made his way to the door. She wasn't sure where he was going, and she wasn't sure he did either.

* * *

Loki hadn't meant to do it. He really hadn't meant to break Tony Stark's mind—because that's what he must have done. There was simply no other explanation for why someone would call _him—_ Loki, the god of mischief and chaos, someone who could break the mortal's neck with a snap— _Reindeer Games_ , whether they were under an enchantment or not.

Or maybe it had nothing to do with the man's sanity and more to do with Loki's spell. Perhaps it was not working as well as it should have been. This would certainly explain Stark's sudden headache, the way his eyes had glazed over, and he'd looked confused. It would explain the way he'd brought up Loki's attempt at world domination. Certainly even if Stark truly believed them to be on positive relations, he would avoid that topic of conversation.

It didn't explain Stark's repeated use of the word 'friend’ as if Loki had any need or desire for such things. Or the mortal's continued personal questions or his incessant blabbering. Indeed, the man was even talking right now, even as he continued to pull the Man of Iron suit behind him, pausing every now and then to yank and breathe but still somehow managing to talk.

"How much further," Stark paused, "to civilization, do you think?"

"Why do you think I have any idea?" Loki answered. He was seriously beginning to wonder if the mortal had an off button. Perhaps if he ever had to delve into Stark's mind again, he would program one.

"Well," Stark said. "You're the one who got us stuck out here, Reindeer Games."

"And I don't hear any useful ideas coming from you," Loki snapped back.

"Maybe if you—" Stark cut off abruptly, a startled gasp breaking through his words.

Loki turned to find Stark's mouth gaping, looking down at his one chest. He'd dropped the straps of the makeshift sleigh, his hands raised to claw at his shirt. After a minute of fiddling, he managed to wrench it up, and Loki could only stare at the piece of glowing metal that was planted deep inside Stark's chest.

"Something's wrong," Stark said, his voice breathy. Loki stepped closer to him; he didn't exactly need Stark to tell him something was wrong. That was much was obvious from the way the light was flickering and pulsing only to shut down completely and start back up again, but he didn't _really_ understand what he was looking at.

"It doesn't always do that?" he asked, though the answer was obvious. Stark glared at him.

"Does it _look_ like it always does that?" he snapped, and Loki shrugged at him. Stark's eyes narrowed and for a long second, Loki was sure the mortal would hit him. To his credit, and Loki's disappointment, he didn't. "Do something, for fuck's sake!" Stark snapped.

"What am I supposed to do?" Loki answered. "I don't even know what _it_ is."

"It's a magnet. It keeps little shards of metal from reaching my heart," Stark was panting now, little beads of sweat glistening across his forehead where they hadn't been before.

"Hmm," Loki answered, still not understanding but rather unwilling to admit to it.

"Really?" Stark hissed. "That's all you’ve got, 'hmm?' No, 'gee Tony, how clever and brilliant' or 'nope I can't do anything, you're going to die,' or 'just hold on, I'll fix you up in a jiffy!'" Loki was now sure the mortal had lost his mind. He must have to be talking to Loki in such a way. "Do something with your magic, already," Stark finally snapped, apparently done with Loki's staring.

Loki hesitated; he supposed he _couldn't_ just let the human die. It would be all kinds of wrong, especially on top of the fact that it was probably his magic's fault that the human's technology was malfunctioning in the first place. But his magic was already depleted from breaking into Stark's mind, much less the teleportation; would it really be worth it? Besides the fact that letting some mortal—that would probably only try to kill him later—die, wouldn't exactly be on the top of the most horrible things he'd ever done.

"I'll help you with SHIELD," Stark said suddenly, as if he'd sensed Loki's hesitation.

"I thought you were already going to do that?" Loki answered, and Stark narrowed his eyes, not even missing a beat.

"Not if I'm dead, Reindeer Games," Stark said, and Barton's words were suddenly echoing through Loki's head; 'he's a genius…' Loki smiled thinly at Stark. It was obvious in the man's eyes now, the calculation, the intelligence. He'd spotted what Loki wanted from a mile away, bartered with it.

Loki remembered looking in the man's mind, the recklessness, _passion_. He wondered what kind of genius Stark made with that wildness; it called to Loki, called to him the same way it had called to him when Stark had been standing outside of his cell, obviously breaking orders to talk to Loki about something he wasn't supposed to. Loki had always been drawn to chaos and desire.

"Alright," Loki answered, bringing one hand out and laying it flat on top of the mechanism still pulsing and flashing inside of Stark's chest. Really, it would be a shame to let someone as fascinating as Tony Stark die so easily. "You have a deal.”

* * *

Bruce woke up to rubble collapsed on top of him. His head was throbbing and fuzzy in that way that only ever happened after the Other Guy had taken over.

He had no idea what happened or where he was or where anyone else on the team was. The last thing he remembered was an explosion. Romanoff yelling something about getting them out, and then the green haze had descended. He supposed he should feel lucky that he wasn't locked in a cell or something right now, but when he thought about all the innocent people he’d probably hurt, or even killed, he couldn't feel anything but sorrow.

He reached up and brushed the rubble off his head, sitting up as best he could. There was dust and grime in his hair, and he was stark naked, though that was no real surprise. He'd woken up naked one too many times to really be shocked by his own nudity anymore. Standing as carefully as he could, Bruce looked around for something to cover himself with. Of course, there was nothing nearby, but it wasn't like he could just sit around waiting. With his luck, Loki would probably be the next person to show up. So, he scrambled to his feet, doing his best to cover himself.

He needed to find the others, to know what happened, to know how many people…. He let his thoughts wonder away from that topic as he crossed into the open.

* * *

Loki looked across the small motel bedroom, locking his eyes on Stark's sleeping form. Stark's gadget thing was easy enough to fix. It had only needed more energy pumped into its core after Loki's magic had drained it. Of course, if Loki so desired it would be only too easy to take that energy away and leave Stark just as helpless as before Loki had helped him. For now, though, there was no reason to do that.

They'd stumbled across the small town just before the sun had set, and Stark had insisted that he was tired and sore and that they were going to find somewhere to sleep for the night. Loki was too shocked that _anyone_ would dare to order him about to argue.

He'd let Stark lead him to an ugly looking motel on the edge of the town and rent them a room. The man had then dropped down on a bed and promptly fallen asleep, not bothering to speak to Loki again before he'd drifted off.

It was odd. Stark was odd. Before coming to Midgard Loki hadn't known that humans could be capable of puzzling him so. Certainly, Barton had never seemed to possess the ability. Nor the red-haired woman or the one-eyed mortal who'd locked him up. They may have been intelligent, even annoying, but they did not have the ability to make him look twice at them. They did not make him wonder and turn around and question what they could be thinking.

Not as Stark did.

Loki did not understand why Stark had agreed to bargain with him. His first instinct was to say the man was a coward, who only wanted to save his own life. Except that Loki _knew_ this wasn't true. He'd been inside the man's mind. If anything, he'd say the opposite was true; Stark leaned a little too close toward death to be sensible, throwing himself into dangerous situations and drinking himself to the ends of the earth.

Yet, the man was smart enough to find Loki's weakness and use it to his own advantage. Perhaps Loki should have been more concerned that Stark was leading him into a trap, except that he could feel his spell still holding tight around Stark's mind.

Which was yet another concerning thing. He did not understand why—if his spell was intact, and Stark believed them to be friends—the man acted so… strange. Loki had never had anyone treat him so informally, back talking and asking him questions that Loki normally would have fried a mortal's mind for.

Certainly, anyone on Asgard would have sneered at Stark for treating Loki so familiarly. Indeed, _they_ would never have traded their lives to help him. Perhaps that was why he found the entire encounter with Stark so very appalling. No one had ever stood in front of him and treated him as if they were his equal. Not even Thor had considered him such, with Loki's magic and Odin's obvious favoritism.

He couldn't, for the life of him, decide if it was just Stark or the entirety of Midgard that was so insane. He knew what Thor would say, but then he'd stopped listening to Thor a long time ago.

Stark shifted on the bed, and Loki watched him for another minute or so. He supposed the man really was tired; perhaps Loki had pushed too hard today, especially considering they had no water or food. After all, it would be a terrible waste to have the man die after everything. Sometimes it was hard to remember how delicate humans could be.

Loki sighed and turned on his side, lying across the uncomfortable mattress. His bed on Asgard was more comfortable, but then he was sure he'd never have the chance to lie across that mattress again.


	5. The Treatment of Confusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your comments and kudos! You're the bestest.

Tony found himself waking up on an uncomfortably rough bed with sunlight shining in his eyes. He waved his hands above his face distractedly, annoyed at the stiffness in his muscles. Whoever's bed he was in was going to be sorry they had ever met him. It was funny; he didn't even remember drinking last night.

He sat up, taking his time before opening his eyes and looking around the small space. He was obviously in some kind of motel. Some kind of cheap dirty motel that Tony would never be caught dead in. Except that he was.

There was a faint brush of clothes and a sigh from his right, and when he looked over there was no mistaking the sleek black hair and lean body sprawled across the other bed in the small motel space. Tony groaned lowly, putting his head into his hands. How had he forgotten his little misadventure with Loki so soon?

Trekking across empty land until they'd found somewhere they could crash for the night, and Tony had been tired and hungry and thirsty and tired and sore and thirsty, and Loki had just looked at him like he was crazy when he'd asked to stop. At least Tony hadn't tried to take the god's head off; he had a feeling that wouldn't exactly end well for him. When they’d found the town, he’d put his foot down and demanded, and Loki had looked so shocked it had left Tony wondered if anyone had ever demanded anything of Loki like that before.

Tony sighed as he slid his legs out of bed, crossing the room as quietly as he could before he slipped out. He needed to find some food, preferably before Loki woke up and wondered why mortals needed to eat at all.

It didn't take Tony long to find the diner around the corner; he could practically smell the pancakes being cooked. They tasted just as good as they smelt. The coffee was amazing as well, though Tony wasn't sure if it was really that good or if he was just caffeine deprived. Of course, it really would have been better with some bourbon in it, but when he mentioned that to the tight-lipped waitress, she'd given him a disgusted look and left without even topping off his coffee.

When he was finished, he sat back, feeling full and satisfied. He figured Loki would either be up looking for him or about to be. He didn't particularly want to deal with an annoyed god of mischief though, and besides, he had other things to consider.

Tony hadn't talked to Pepper since he'd been called off by SHIELD; she would no doubt be worried about him. If he was a good boyfriend, he would contact her, let her know he was at least alive. The mere idea sent a pulse of hesitation through him. He _knew_ Loki would disapprove. Besides, SHIELD might use Pepper against him if they knew he was in contact with her, and then Loki would be in danger.

Loki was his friend. SHIELD was the bad guy, and Loki needed his help against them.

Tony hesitated. He had a definite feeling he was missing something, that there was something he was forgetting, some crucial piece his mind had overlooked. Then there was a sharp pain in the back of his mind, and he was shying away from that line of thought before he could stop himself.

It was all rather ridiculous _anyway_. Of course, Loki was his friend, why else would Tony be out here with him? SHIELD had always been questionable to Tony. They’d always done things he didn't agree with. He shouldn't be surprised he now knew the truth. Besides, it was plain as day that Loki needed his help; it was why Tony had used that to get Loki to help him restart his arc reactor.

He ignored the little niggling voice inside him that whispered and poked and prodded and asked if Loki was his friend, why had he been so hesitant to help him in the first place? Thinking like that only made that strange pain blossom in the back of his mind again.

He waved the waitress over, flashing several bills at her, and she handed him the check with more suspicion than he really thought necessary. Thankfully, he always kept an emergency stash of money on him, and he wasn't hesitant about using it at the diner.

When he'd paid, he rounded the corner again, stopping around the back alley of the motel and pausing behind a dumpster. Loki and he had left the Ironman suit back there last night for fear of bringing it into the motel. Looking back, Tony couldn't believe he'd left his baby in such a compromising position, but then he _had_ been extremely tired.

He reached into the helmet, yanking on a couple wires and wondering what he'd have to do to get Jarvis back online. The first step to anything was get his suit working. He could figure out all the rather inconvenient emotional stuff later when it was more important.

Besides, he _had_ promised to help Loki if nothing else.

* * *

Natasha spotted Banner first, though admittedly it wasn't that hard when the guy was actively trying to wave her down. She supposed some of her own tactical positioning had been involved, what with searching the area and everything, but mostly her finding Banner could be attributed to Banner himself.

He was naked when she landed, covering himself with some tattered tarp that was obviously uncomfortable. Natasha took one look at him and somehow managed to stop herself from smirking.

"There's an extra change of clothes in the back," she told him before switching the headset on and radioing Fury. "I've found Banner."

"Excellent," he responded. "Don't bother bringing him back here, I want you to meet Thor and Rogers just outside of New Mexico. Thor will bring Banner back to where we've set up in New York, and you and Rogers will check out this new signal we've picked up."

"What kind of signal?" Natasha asked, frowning even though she knew Fury couldn't see her.

"The Stark kind."

"Can't imagine Thor is happy about being left out of the action, seeing as Loki is still missing too," Natasha answered.

"Thor has no way of knowing whether his brother is actually even there. He'll deal with it," Fury said, and ended their connection. Natasha took that to mean Thor _hadn't_ liked their new orders, but then again, it wasn't exactly _her_ job to deal with all the things that annoyed Fury. Her job was to do what she was told.

It wasn't as if she couldn't understand where Thor was coming from. Clint was still out there, brain washed and working without control of his own actions, and even if Loki was evil and behind Clint's brainwashing, Natasha figured she could still understand how Thor could be feeling if nothing else. It always hurt to see someone you cared about on the other side of the battle.

"We're heading to New Mexico," she called back.

* * *

Stark wasn't in the room when Loki woke up, but he could still feel the buzz of his mind and the spell in place, so Loki forced himself to stop panicking completely.

He sat up in his small uncomfortable motel bed and asked himself why he would be panicking at all. He was practically a god to these humans, surrounded by mere ants. What would it matter if Stark broke his spell and told them where he was? It wasn't as if—even if they did manage to catch him again—they could hold him.

He took his time showering and then redressing himself, feeling damp and lost in the Midgardian air. Showering was still strange to him after years and years of bathing exclusively on Asgard, but then it was quicker than bathing, and more satisfying than using magic.

When he was finished with his grooming, he stepped outside his room, ignoring the rumbling of his stomach and followed the pattern of Stark's mind. It led him around the back of the motel and straight to where they had left the man's metal suit the night before. Stark's hands were inside the helmet, disappearing into the metal and banging around inside. Loki found himself standing off to the side, watching silently as Stark continued to work.

It was fascinating on a strange level how concentrated Stark was. He seemed to have put his entire focus into the machine in front of him, not even noticing Loki standing beside him for several minutes. It was only after the man pulled his hands out, now stained black, and stepped away that he saw Loki. He jumped, eyes widening as he stared in surprise.

"What are you doing?" Stark hissed.

"What are _you_ doing?" Loki answered.

"I was fixing my suit," Stark snapped, his eyes narrowing as if Loki had personally offended him. "How long have you been standing there?"

"For a while." Loki shrugged before turning back to the suit in front of them. "Is your suit now functional?"

"I— sort of," Stark let out a loud breath. "I think I fixed everything, but it's having the same problem as my arc reactor was, it's completely out of juice. Whatever your magic did to it, it was efficient."

"Hmm," Loki answered, his eyes never leaving the suit. If this was true, it meant he could probably also power Stark's suit; however, it remained to be seen whether Loki actually _wanted_ to power the suit.

It _could_ help him. If Stark decided he wanted to use it to help him. His eyes flicked to Stark, to his still spell bound mind, to the way he pouted at his suit as if he were beyond disappointed that it wasn't working. And he was stepping forward before he really knew what he was doing, putting his hand on the suit and pushing his power into it.

He explained his behavior by telling himself that having another weapon could only help him. He told himself that Stark wouldn't betray him now, not when he'd already said he'd help, not when his mind was firmly in Loki's grasp. But the truth of the matter was that he simply didn't think of the consequences, and he should have known better than to do something so very foolish.

He should have already learned his lesson many times over by now.

He reached down, hovering his hands over the suit and pouring his magic into it. He felt the suit light up under his fingers, the power transferring from his own body into the metal. It took more energy from him than he was expecting but that could have just been because of the spell he was still maintaining on Stark's mind. The light in the center of the chest started to glow, and Stark let out a whoop, stumbling around Loki to get his hands on his suit.

"Power at 50%, sir," a British voice said, and Loki jumped, moving away from the suit and just barely containing the hiss from between his teeth. Stark look over at him, seemingly surprised by his reaction but just raising an eyebrow.

"That's just my AI, Jarvis," Stark said before turning back to his suit. "He can't hurt you."

It wasn't that Loki doubted Stark was telling the truth, it was just that this was one more component that Loki wasn't in control of. One more thing that he need worry about once Stark broke out of his enchantment.

Not that Loki couldn't just cast another spell, but it was rather the principle of the thing.

"We should probably get moving just in case the Avengers can pick up our signal," Stark said, and he said it so casually Loki almost missed the threat in his words.

"What did you say?”

"Relax," he waved his hand dismissively. "I sent out a fake signal on my phone before I even started working; they'll be somewhere in New Mexico by now." Then he was turning away from Loki as if that was the end of the conversation, picking up the handles of the sleigh they'd been using to drag his suit. He thrust them unceremoniously at Loki, who was still staring. "Here, you can pull this. I'm still sore from yesterday."

"Excuse—" Loki started, but Stark was already talking over him as if he'd said nothing. And that strange warm feeling that had appeared in Loki's chest, the one that felt vaguely like gratitude disappeared.

"Thanks, Reindeer Games," Stark said, winking once before turning and walking past the sign proclaiming them to be in Puckerbrush, Nevada.

* * *

"What do you mean there's nothing there," Fury demanded.

"I mean there's nothing here," Steve answered, ignoring Romanoff's look as if _she_ could have answered better. There simply _wasn't_ anything for them to see except a strip of empty desert. "There's no Stark, no Loki, nothing to give off a signal, sir."

"Hmm," Fury answered, and Steve was sure he wasn't imaging how annoyed the other man sounded, but well, it wasn't _Steve's_ fault the director had led them on a wild goose chase. "Loki must have teleported again." There was a beat of silence, and then the telling click as the director switched off his comm. Steve sighed but just turned to Romanoff, lowering his hand from his ear.

"Something doesn't feel right," he said. She raised an eyebrow, her eyes flicking around, but she had that expression on her face that said she was listening to him. "Why would the signal still be broadcasting if Loki had just jumped with Stark again?"

"You think someone set us up?" she asked.

"I don't know," he answered. "It doesn't seem likely, I guess. The only person who'd be able to hack SHIELD's computers like that and replicate Stark's signature would be…." he trailed off. He didn't _like_ the guy but accusing him of something like that felt like a low blow, especially after how much he'd liked Howard. Sure, Stark was a far fall from the tree, but he was still Howard's son. Besides, Steve couldn't see Fury recruiting him if there was a chance he'd turn on them.

"Stark," Romanoff finished for him, and he could only nod. "Maybe Loki did his mind trick on him?"

"Yeah, I don't know. Something just doesn't feel right," he hesitated. "And the way Thor's been acting. Have you noticed?"

"Almost like he knows something we don't?"

"You don't think there's a chance he's working with Loki, do you?" Steve asked, and Romanoff just sighed, her lips pursed together so hard Steve didn't know whether to take it as confirmation or denial. He didn't want to accuse Thor of something like betraying them, but then he'd seen the way Thor had looked at Loki.

It had been the same way Steve had looked at Bucky back in the day, and well... Steve didn't know what he would do if Bucky suddenly came back as the enemy.

* * *

Neither of them had said anything for a long time, which wasn't exactly strange for Loki, but it was strange for Tony. He didn't not talk. It wasn't something he did. Yesterday, he hadn't stopped asking Loki questions as they walked, and today, it was if a switch had flipped. A switch that told him to think instead of talk. Usually, he could do both at the same time, but then there was nothing usual about their situation.

It was just that the strange itch was still ticking away in the back of his mind, making it hard to think, to concentrate. Besides, the way Loki was _still_ looking at him. He couldn't get over the way Loki had reacted when he'd heard Jarvis; he'd seemed startled, nervous. Tony would have said Loki had never heard Jarvis before but that couldn't be true. How could they be friends when Loki had never spoken to Jarvis before? It simply didn't compute. There was no Tony without Jarvis.

Not that that sounded weird or anything.

The longer Tony walked, and Loki stared at the back of his head as if he'd grown as third eye, and he thought, and he ignored the piercing stabbing pain in the back of his skull, the more _wrong_ it felt.

If they were friends, why did Loki seem so surprised by _everything_ Tony did, why did he seem to know nothing about him and vice versa. Why did he have no memory beyond finding Loki and Thor together…. and then, and then they'd…

He winced as the stabbing pain shot through his mind again, but he shoved it to the side this time, ignoring and pushing and refusing to acknowledge it, because he knew he was on the brink of _something important_.

"Stark?" And Loki was suddenly right there, leaning down over him because damn it, how had he not noticed until now that Loki was _taller_ than him. Tony looked straight into green eyes, _glowing_ green eyes, power flashing through him, down his body and connecting into his mind, and Loki was somehow _inside_ his mind, touching and meddling, and looking at things he had no fucking _right_ to be looking at.

And anyone who was Tony Stark's friend would have known better than to mess around with his mind.

He could feel Loki push against something in his mind, he could feel the impressions trying to warp back the way the god wanted them to be, but this time Tony refused to let them. His mind was _his._ How _dare_ Loki try and screw with it? Who did he think he was? Besides, the god of mischief, obviously.

Tony shoved and pushed and was surprised when Loki hesitated. He could feel how the god paused, how he withdrew a fraction from Tony's mind, and then changed direction. And he _hated_ how violated he felt as Loki shifted through his memories and his experiences and his emotions, his touch gentle now.

It probably lasted maybe a minute, but it felt a lot longer than that to Tony. Eventually, Loki stepped out of his mind, returning them both to their bodies. Loki looked calm, composed, completely and utterly unruffled. And Tony felt… wretched.

Before he could process what he was doing, he was raising his fist and bringing it slamming into the god's nose. He felt something crunch under his fingers and there was a sick sense of satisfaction running through him when Loki's hand raised up to his face to cover his bent and bleeding nose.

"You bastard," Tony said.


	6. To be Guilty of Something. Because When One is a Criminal Mastermind, there isn’t Much One Won’t Do. Sort Of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so so sorrry for the delay. I feel a little like life messed up my order and gave me some limes instead of lemons these past couple weeks. But anyway, hopefully, we're back on track, and I hope you enjoy!

Loki felt… guilty. It wasn't an emotion he was familiar with. When he was younger and earning himself the title of God of Chaos and Mischief, he'd really never done anything _horrible_. It had been tricks and play, designed to entertain. While he knew not everyone was amused, he also knew no one was going to be seriously injured from anything he did.

Even the morally questionable things he'd done—the ones of his own free will—were done for what he considered a good reason. He knew everyone else didn't exactly _agree_ , but that didn't exactly mean he would have to _care_.

Besides, he'd never stuck around to deal with the consequences. And they were uglier than he had ever considered—if he'd ever bothered to.

Stark was panting in front of him, holding his right hand out as if it hurt, which it probably did. Loki's face wasn't exactly soft. He'd seen the blow coming, but after digging through Stark's mind, he'd figured if the man wanted to punch him, he'd have ever right.

Loki just hadn't realized. He hadn't realized how precious a mind was on Midgard. On Asgard, while Loki certainly valued his privacy, people just didn't consider mind reading an invasion of said privacy. Sure, Loki _hated_ what the Other had done to him; he felt used and sick, but Stark had reacted as if Loki had taken away one of his basic rights, and Loki had _not_ understood.

Of course, he had only made it worse by seeking out the answer.

He could remember hundreds of times where Thor and he would share thoughts or feelings, where someone would read a wayward thought. It was one of the things that had made Loki snap and hate them all. The way they’d all looked him in the eyes and thought him lesser than them because of his magic.

"You bastard," Stark said finally. He was still panting, his face contorting with barely contained anger. Loki said nothing. There would be no point in explaining himself or apologizing, Stark would only think him lying. Besides, Loki couldn't deny that he deserved the words the man was about to throw at him. "You don't care a flying fuck about anything but yourself, do you? You really do think all humans are lesser than you, going around, screwing with people's mind like they don't matter, like we're just tools for you to use and then throw away?"

Loki said nothing, merely pressed his fingers a little harder against his nose. It had stopped bleeding by now, but if he wasn't careful it would probably heal itself crooked. Still, he didn't want to fix it in front of Stark. That felt… wrong somehow.

"What were you even going to do with me, huh?" Stark snapped, sounding even angrier at Loki for not speaking. "You just wanted to me to waltz up to SHIELD and get myself arrested for defending you? Because no _way_ they would have just been like 'okay, Tony, of _course_ you're telling the truth and Loki's a good guy after he's killed _80 people_.’"

Loki flinched at the reminder. He didn't barely remember killing anyone when the Other had been in control of his mind, but he was sure he had. It would only have been too easy for him, the anger and hate he could still feel burning under his skin driving him.

"Ooh," Stark continued, his eyes narrowing at Loki's flinch. "Don't like being reminded just how vile you are?"

Loki laughed. He could only laugh, because he'd been reminded his whole _life_ how vile, how despicable he was. Even before he'd known he was a frost giant, no one had been hesitant to remind him how little they’d thought of him. He didn't use to believe the words, but how many times could one hear them before they would become true. How could one be something one hates without knowing they were right all along.

So, he laughed in Stark's face, a loud mocking laugh that he'd perfected long before he'd met the mortal. One he'll no doubt use long after the mortal was dead.

"Just get on with it, Stark," Loki answered. "Now that you've broken the spell, what _are_ you going to do?"

Stark narrowed his eyes, hatred and anger flashing through him, and Loki could only smile wider. That was so much more familiar then how the man _had_ been behaving. At least now, Loki knew how to respond. At least now, Loki knew how to deal with the dread and disappointment and the pain coiling from his belly.

"We're going back to SHIELD," Stark said. "Jarvis, send a message to Fury telling him where we are."

"Yes, sir," that British voice spoke again. Loki looked back at Stark, his smile faint and amused. He wondered vaguely how Stark thought he'd keep him here if he was determined to get away, but then _he'd_ been the one foolish enough to give the man a working suit.

Stark's eyes blazed, a silent dare for Loki to try something, and Loki decided Stark might just be angry enough to hurt him.

* * *

"Are you sure you're alright, Tony?" Bruce asked again. He'd probably asked the question twenty times in the past twelve hours, and it was beginning to get annoying. Sure, Tony liked the guy, but he wasn't his mother. Tony didn't even like Pepper bothering him when he was in this kind of mood.

He ignored Bruce completely, reaching instead for a glass of brandy. He downed it in one swallow, setting the glass down before turning back to the board lit up in front of him. It wasn't as if he hadn't already had a—very uncomfortable—checkup.

Romanoff had questioned him; Rogers had questioned him; Fury had questioned him; Bruce had pretty much felt him up, and Colson had stood by and watched as if it was 'make Tony feel as uncomfortable as possible day'. To top it all off, no one had let him get a drink.

No one.

It had been ridiculous.

Oh, and he had been forbidden from going downstairs and kicking Loki in the soft spot. Fury had said something about deniability that he'd _known_ hadn't been true. Then when Tony had started arguing Rogers looked him in the eye and said Tony might still be mind controlled and do something he would regret, which Tony was sure was true but still ridiculous. Shouldn't he know if he was mind controlled?

Bruce had been the worst though, asking him logical questions about why he hadn't just thrown his punch when he'd had the chance. Really, it was ridiculous, and not that simple.

Tony had no idea why he done more that punch Loki.

And, man, did that just boil his blood. It made him angry—no, it made him furious. Mostly with himself.

He could still remember every thought that had passed through his mind, every time he'd turned his mind around because of the pain in his skull or because he'd thought Loki had actually been on his side. He hated that he hadn't been able to break Loki's mind control faster. He hated that he still couldn't make himself believe that Loki was evil.

It wasn't that he didn't hate the guy. Because right then, he did. Oh, he really did. Tony's mind was precious, like fairest of them all, evil queen precious. He didn't condone people messing around in there, much less just changing whatever they wanted to suit themselves. But that didn't mean there hadn't been something off about the whole thing.

Like why Loki had brainwashed him differently than everyone else. Like why the staff hadn't been sending the same readings as before. Like why Loki had never met up with the rest of his brain washed lunatics. Like why he was still sitting in some cell when Tony _knew_ he could get out. The pieces didn't fit together, and Tony _hated_ when the pieces didn't fit together more than he hated Loki.

Well, at the moment. It changed by the hour.

* * *

Thinking back, Loki really should have expected the shackles. Humans did love their shackles. And their guns. And their iron cages.

He supposed he could understand their instinct; last time they'd had him he _had_ escaped, then he _had_ teleported with one of their team mates no less. Then he'd proceeded to brain wash him. So, he could understand their caution, but then it wasn't as if their shackles were going to do them any good. Or their guns. Or their iron cage.

It wasn't as if he hadn't escaped from worse before, but he didn't even know why he'd let himself get dragged back and locked into shackles. It had had something to do with the look on Stark's face. Or maybe the guilt. Or maybe he was just bored.

Loki definitely preferred the latter option, and that was really all that mattered.

"Stark told us what happened," the man before him said. He had short blonde hair and bright blue eyes; he was fairly sure his team called him Rogers. He’d been dressed in that strange spangly red, white, and blue outfit when he'd attacked Loki in both Germany and Nevada. Loki supposed he was attractive, in that same tall, blonde, and handsome way that Thor was. Fortunately, the only thing that stirred in Loki when he was around was vague annoyance.

Stark's group had shown up faster than he expected them to, but then he supposed that was also a blessing. Stark had been glaring at him the entire time they waited, not pointing any weapons at him, but somehow that had been worse. It just meant Stark was angry enough that he didn't need a weapon to keep Loki there.

Loki had seen that look in other people's eyes before. He'd seen that look in his own eyes before. It was strange how much it hurt, especially since it had never hurt before. He supposed, he'd never been the one who was so… wrong before.

"Hmm," Loki answered, turning his head away from Rogers. His hands were still bound in the heavy shackles, so he wasn't able to fully turn away from Rogers but well, the effect was the same.

"You going to tell us why you didn't just take him to the rest of your minions?" Rogers tried to take a step toward him, but the cage around Loki got in the way. Loki almost laughed, Thor had a better chance at intimidating him, and Thor wasn’t scary.

"No," Loki answered, and Rogers sighed, and Loki really just wanted him to leave. Fury had already been there, the woman—Romanoff—had been there, asking him questions about what he'd done to Stark. He'd maintained his silence because there was nothing they needed to know. Nothing he'd done to Stark would actually hurt the man, and it wasn't as if he knew anything about the Other's plans anymore.

Not that he would _help_ the mighty avengers, even if he did know something.

"Fine," Rogers said, turning his back on Loki. He nodded to the guard who stood at the door to the room, his gun trained on Loki's figure. Then he was gone, and Loki was alone. Or as alone as he ever was.

Loki sat in silence for a long time after. He wanted to close his eyes, but he didn't dare. Not with all the guards staring at him with itchy fingers on triggers. There was one guard in particular that shifted every time Loki moved, his finger skimming along his gun, and his feet shuffling along the floor. Loki never said anything, but he had to resist the urge to smile widely at him, to show his teeth. He wondered vaguely what would happen if he showed the man his true form.

Thor showed up faster than Loki was expecting him to. After all, it had taken an explosion to get Thor to show up the last time. Still, maybe his big brother was actually learning. Or maybe SHIELD had thought Loki would open up to him more than he'd opened up to the others. Loki didn't much care either way. It wasn't as if he was planning on actually speaking to Thor.

"Hello, Thor," Loki said.

"Loki," he answered.

"You seem tired, Thor. Did dragging me in do such a number on you?"

"When will you cease this game, Loki?" Thor returned. "Tell us where you've hidden the tesseract."

"I don't know," Loki answered, and the look in Thor's eyes made him wonder if Thor actually believe him. There was something about the way he stared straight back at Loki as if he wasn't quite as blind as he'd always been before.

Then he was turning his head away, shaking his head and sighing, and Loki was smiling to himself. Thor would never believe him over his precious mortals. He had never truly thought Loki worth his truth, and he wasn't about to start now.

"I know not what Fury will do if you don't cooperate."

"Tell him to go ahead," Loki answered. He was not afraid of a few humans and whatever uninspired tortures they could concoct. At least it would be better than these… emotions he was feeling now.

"Brother," Thor started, ignoring Loki's warning glare completely. "I feel as if I have missed something important."

"How this is a new feeling to you?"

"I do not think you are as guilty as you're pretending to be," Thor answered, and Loki could only stare at him. Thor didn't say things like that.

Well, Thor didn't actually notice things in general, but Loki had gotten used to that a long time ago.

"The director would believe you if—" Thor started, and Loki almost laughed as Thor's words clicked in his mind. He smiled, half laughing at himself for almost letting Thor trick him.

"Very good, Thor."

"What?"

"You almost had me."

"Loki—"

"I have nothing to say to you." One side of his mouth turned down, his smirk becoming more pronounced. "Next time Fury seeks to trick me into confessing something, he may wish to send someone more practiced in the art of deception." Thor frowned; to his credit, he did a good job seeming confused by what Loki was saying. It almost seemed real, but well, Loki knew from experience that one couldn't trust Thor.

"Brother, what are you—"

"I would see you out, but well." He held up his hands, the shackles making a horrible jangling sound. The guard in the corner twitched, and Loki flashed him a smile. Thor sighed one last time before he turned, leaving the room and Loki behind.

* * *

Tony stood from his stool abruptly, pushing the bourbon away from him as he moved away from his workspace.

"Tony?" Bruce asked, looking up from his own project.

"I'm going to see Loki," he told him.

"I really don't think you're allowed to do that," Bruce said, but he knew better then to really try and stop Tony from doing anything as he left the room. Bruce was a fast learner.

He moved down the stairs fast, wondering if Bruce would tell on him or just let him burn his own bridges. He knew where Loki was being held; he'd overheard Fury and Rogers talking about it while they were checking him out. He stopped in front of the door where Loki was, the guards in front eyeing him warily. He smiled charmingly and reached for the door. He'd long since learned that if you acted confident, people didn't stop you from doing what you wanted.

Once he was inside, he stopped just outside the iron bars of Loki's cell, watching as he raised his head and locked bright green eyes on Tony's face.

"We need to talk," Tony said.

"What do you want?" Loki asked, and he had the nerve to look annoyed. _Annoyed_. Like Tony was the one who had teleported him halfway across the country and then tried to brainwash him. Which he wasn't. That had been all Loki, just in case there was any confusion.

"Nu-huh, Reindeer Games," Tony snapped, and Loki's eyes widened minutely as if he'd been startled, which he probably had. He was probably about to explode into a rant of how Tony was merely a mortal who had no right to talk to a god like that, the little shit. "You don't get to be like that, got it?" And Tony wondered just how ridiculous he looked, scolding the god of mischief like what he had to say really mattered to Loki. "You mind raped _me,_ ok? So, hold the sass, shut up, and listen.

"What you did was wrong. It was just… wrong. People don't _do_ that to other people. They don't just open up their minds and invite themselves in when they want something, and they certainly don't just _make_ people act, or especially _think_ a certain way when they want it. It's… wrong," Tony finished lamely, more than a little surprised that Loki hadn't already interrupted him. Honestly, he hadn't exactly planned his whole speech out, because he hadn't thought he'd get to all of it. But Loki was just staring up at him, green eyes trained on his face like… His expression was…

"What?" Tony snapped. "Don't tell me you actually feel sorry for what you did?" Loki's face shifted at the words. He didn't understand it, but he still saw. Loki's lips twisted; the glint in his eyes vanishing, to be replacing with something mocking, but it wasn't directed at Tony.

Tony knew self-hatred when he saw it, and he might not know what Loki could have to hate about himself, but he _knew_ that look. He’d worn it one too many times in front of the mirror.

"Why would I feel something like that?" Loki answered, his voice high and mocking.

"I don't know," Tony answered, watching him closely. "Are you sorry?" Loki's mask seemed to drop, a startled expression there for just a moment before he was turning his face away, voice dismissive.

"Why are you here, Stark?"

"I want to know where the tesseract is," Tony said, which wasn't actually why he was there, but well, it also wasn't _not_ true. Loki's eyes narrowed at the wall like he could sense the deception, but he just sighed.

"I don't know where it is."

"So I hear."

"Why bother me if you already know my answer?"

"I thought maybe you'd tell me something different since we're such pals," Tony answered, voice flat. Loki's eyes flicked to him and then back at the wall, and his voice mirrored Tony's exactly when he spoke.

"Would you prefer I lie? Perhaps give you a false destination?"

"I'd prefer the truth, if you can handle that, oh God of Lies," Tony said, and a muscle in Loki's jaw twitched, but he was otherwise still.

"I don't know where it is."

"Then, tell me something you do know," Tony returned, maybe if he tried something different, he could get Loki to—

"No," Loki's answer was so abrupt that Tony almost missed it. He almost missed the minute way Loki's eyes hardened, the way he turned his head further to the side like he was hiding. Except he couldn't be. Loki simply couldn't be _hiding_ from _him_.

"And why not?"

"Because I do not wish to."

"And why not?" Tony answered. There was a long beat as Loki seemed to consider the question, and then he was turning his head back, his green eyes locking on Tony's as he did, and he looked so tired. So tired and frustrated and… scared.

And Tony _knew_ that look.

"I don't trust you," Loki said, and Tony was opening his mouth to say something. He didn't know what was going to come out, but the door was opening behind him, and he could tell by the way Loki's face shut down, he'd missed his chance.

"Stark!" Someone—someone who sounded a lot like Fury actually—yelled. "What do you think you're doing in here?"


	7. To Understand Him. Well, Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your wonderful comments!

"Stark," Rogers said, for what felt like an unnecessary number of times. If Tony was going to answer, he would have already.

"Fury needs to work on his people skills," he commented, turning his back on Rogers completely as he tinkered.

"Tony," Bruce sighed, and he sounded disapproving, but then he would.

"Stark, Fury is right," Mr. awesomeness said. "You can't just go running and doing whatever you want. Especially, after what happened with Loki last time."

"I told you I'm not mind whammed anymore," Tony snapped, slamming the console he was messing with down in favor of glaring at them.

"We can't know that for sure," Rogers answered.

"So, you really think Fury should have _grounded_ me like I'm some kid?" he asked, and Bruce made a coughing sound in the back of his throat. Tony glared at him, but Bruce just shrugged innocently.

"Scratchy throat," he said, which Tony totally believed.

"You broke the rules," Rogers answered.

"Now who sounds like the kid," Tony told him, and Rogers frowned like he didn't understand what Tony was getting at. Tony just sighed.

"I just mean that you were told not to go see Loki, and you did it anyway. Anything could have happened."

"Yea, but nothing did! I even made some progress with him, maybe I would have made more if you guys hadn't come barging in."

"Yeah," Bruce interrupted whatever Rogers was opening his mouth to say. "What _was_ all that about?"

"What?" Rogers asked.

"Everything Loki was saying. He seemed adamant that he was telling the truth."

"He was lying,” Rogers answered easily.

"I actually don't think so," Tony said, and was rewarded with Rogers glaring at him.

"It's not like we can really trust your opinion on the subject," Rogers said.

"Come on, Steve," Bruce said. "Weren't you and Natasha talking about how the whole think felt off to you before we even picked Tony up again? Doesn't this all smell a little fishy?" Roger's shifted but said nothing, his lips pressed together tightly.

"It's almost like Loki's not part of whatever attack was happening anymore," Tony said.

"What?" Rogers said. "How can that be? He's the one that came out of the portal and threatened to take over the world."

"Well, think about it. He didn't rejoin his group when he had the chance. His scepter started acting differently once we captured him. He's adamant that he doesn't know where the tesseract is. His eyes changed…" Tony trailed off, his mind making several quick leaps even as he spoke.

"His eyes what?" Bruce frowned at him, and both he and Rogers looked lost. "What are you talking about, Tony?"

"His eyes were blue!" Tony exclaimed.

"What?" Rogers answered. "No, his eyes are green."

"Exactly!" Tony said, and Bruce and Rogers exchanged a confused look, but Tony was already moving toward the tent flap, almost hopping up as he went.

It didn't take very long for Tony to find Thor. He was standing exactly where Tony had last seen him, off to the side of the camp. He looked like some tragic hero or something with his red cape blowing in the wind, and Tony seriously wondered if the guy was creating the wind just so he could look cool.

"Tony, what's going on? Why are you talking about Loki's eyes?" Bruce asked, keeping pace with him. He looked nervous, confused, like he was worried Tony was suddenly going to turn back into Loki's mind puppet or something. Which he _wasn't._ No, thank you.

"I told you," Tony answered. "Loki's innocent."

"Uh, yeah, no," Rogers said. "You didn't actually ever say that."

"Thor!"

"Man of iron?" Thor answered, already turning as he heard their approach.

"What are the chances that Loki was mind whammied like everyone else?" Tony asked, and he doesn't miss the startled intake of breath from Rogers, or look of understanding that appeared on Thor's.

And Tony just _loved_ it when he was right.

* * *

Fury came back a few minutes after he'd dragged Tony out, staring down at Loki with his one eye narrowed. It was insulting, to be forced to the ground and looked down on by a human in such a way. As if he wasn't a god in their eyes. As if he was nothing. He glared up at Fury as the man approached.

"Why did you say those things to Stark?" the man asked, and really, it wasn't as if Loki had a good answer, much less a lie for that question. "The funny thing is, Stark seems to believe you," Fury stepped closer. "Not sure if I should take that as a strike against or for your character. Or maybe it just means he's not as clean of your influence as we'd thought."

"I've done nothing to him," Loki answered.

"Recently," Fury said, and Loki only inclined his head.

"So, come on, help me out here. What's the plan? Stay locked up forever? It's not like you're doing much from in here."

"Maybe," Loki answered, and Fury just stared at him. He stared at him for so long, Loki began to wonder what exactly Fury was seeing. He didn't know. Maybe he didn't want to know.

When Stark had been there, it was almost as if Loki was 100 years old again—unable to control himself around someone attractive. Except Stark wasn't just someone attractive—he was someone angry and looking for recompense, and Loki had been inclined to give it to him, even though he'd known it would have been a horrid idea. Even though he'd known Stark would only have hated him more for it.

Eventually, Fury seemed to tire of their staring game. He pursed his lips, pressing them in a thin line before turning away from Loki. He muttered something to himself as he let the door drop shut behind him, and then Loki was alone again. Or rather alone with his guards with shackles around his wrists.

He hated how trapped and powerless he felt here. He hated how everyone looked down on him. He spent a vicious moment wondering what they thought he was going to do. What they thought theywere going to do. A couple guards with little guns and shackles couldn’t stop him if he really wanted to escape.

* * *

"So, let me get this straight," Fury said, and he was talking in his patient voice. The one that made Tony want to poke him until he exploded. Couldn't be long now. "You think Loki's innocent because his eyes used to be blue?"

They were sitting around the semi-ruined avengers table that had somehow survived the crashing of the helicarrier. He supposed that was a good omen of their team. Or maybe it just meant SHIELD was really good at building tables. Fury was standing slightly off to the sight, hands behind his back, looking irritated, while everyone else sat. And Tony couldn't help wondering what went through the man's head as they talked.

"You think Barton's mind-controlled because _his_ eyes are blue," Tony countered, feeling more than a little offended that that's all Fury had gotten from Tony's pretty legit presentation.

"No, I _know_ Barton's mind-controlled, because I _saw_ it," he answered, and Tony was opening his mouth to retort, but Thor beat him to the punch.

"I believe the Man of Iron is correct," Thor said. "Loki has not been himself."

"But what is himself?" Rogers asked. "The guy killed 80 people."

"And mind-controlled Barton and Stark," Romanoff said as if anyone really needed a reminder.

"You guys are missing the point here," Tony argued. "He was forced to invade earth; everything else was just in self-defense. He probably doesn't even want to be here…" he trailed off when he noticed how everyone was staring at him. "What?"

"I thought you hated the guy?" Bruce asked, his voice loud in the quiet of the room.

"I did!" Tony answered. "I mean, I do. I'm just saying we could use him."

"Use him how?" Thor said immediately, and he had the older brother scowl on his face now, looking down at Tony thoughtfully as if he didn't know whether to trust him or throw him across the room.

"Well, Loki's got to know _something_ ," Tony said carefully. "If we can just get him to talk to us—"

"I have tried," Thor interrupted. "Loki is stubborn; he will not speak to us."

"Not even if you say you believe he was mind-controlled?" Rogers asked.

"Especially then," Thor sighed. "He will most likely think it a trap," his eyes flicked briefly to Fury before returning to Rogers, and the unspoken, 'and he will most likely be right' was left unsaid.

"Leave it to me," Tony smiled charmingly. "He likes me."

"No," Fury said. "Absolutely not."

"What? Why?"

"Because you're compromised," Romanoff said.

"Okay, seriously guys," Tony grumbled. "How long are we going to pull this whole Loki compromised Tony card? I'm fine."

"Maybe," Fury answered, his one eye narrowed at Tony over the table. "Or maybe not. Romanoff will talk to Loki."

"Oh, yeah, that'll work out just perfect," Tony answered, and he hoped they could _taste_ his sarcasm.

* * *

Loki was beginning to get tired. He'd already been in the SHIELD cell for maybe a little less than a day. They hadn't given him food or water, not that he'd expected them to. He wasn't human; he didn't need sustenance and sleep as often as they did, but that didn't mean he didn't need them at all. Besides, he'd already been weak from keeping his spell on Stark, and he didn't even remember the last time he ate. It was probably back when he was with the Other. Before they sent him to Midgard; everything after they'd started digging into his brain was a blur.

So, yes, he was beginning to be tired and hungry and thirsty and weak, but he didn't dare ask for anything. He could still remember the chittering laugh of the Chitauri when he'd gotten desperate enough to ask for water. Funny how humans thought themselves so much better.

Stark would probably have given him water. The thought came into his mind so fast, he didn't have time to prepare himself against the guilt and the shame that flooded through him, because he didn't deserve for Stark to be kind to him. Hel, this was what his weakened mind degraded him to. Petty sentiment and foolish thought followed by guilt. It was repulsive, and he hated it. He had spent so much of his life chipping away at the part of himself that cared. At the part of him that could be hurt. And the Other had brought it all back with a few well-placed kicks.

He almost flinched when the door opened. Almost. He wasn't that far gone. Yet.

Natasha Romanoff stepped in. The assassin. The liar. He'd talked to her before; she always seemed to have a strategy when she came in to interrogate him. She was clever, and he admired that, but he didn't exactly have the strength to deal with her right now. He turned his head away, facing the right wall and hoping she would go away. Of course, she didn't. She probably had a chip in her brain commanding her to be obedient.

"Hello, Loki," she said. Her voice was soft, smooth. He hated how comforting it sounded. He hated how she said his name and not something derogatory. He didn't answer. She stepped forward, coming to the very edge of his cage and sighed.

"Where's the tesseract?" she asked. His eyes flicked over to her; it was odd that she asked directly. She never asked directly. She always manipulated her way around the question, hoping Loki would mess up. "Come on, Loki. Just tell me where the tesseract is. Help us, and we can help you."

The trap was entirely too obviously, because SHIELD would never help him. Not when they'd known what he'd done. Loki just couldn't understand what Romanoff was playing at, and the longer he stared at her open face, the more confused he became. Did she truly think soft words would work on a murderer or was there something else going on that he didn't know about? The latter seemed likely, but he couldn't figure out what it could be.

"I don't know where the tesseract is," he answered. His usual response to her, even when she hadn't directly asked him the question.

"Alright," she said. "I believe you." The pieces almost clicked together. He could almost understand what she was doing, the realization just out of his reach, but he was too surprised and confused and tired to fully process what was going on.

"What are you…?"

"Tell me what you do know then."

"I don't think—"

"If you want out of here, Loki, you have to cooperate," she said, and her voice was still soft, and it drove him to the edge, because he hated how he liked the way she was treating him. It was all an act to get something from him—he knew it was. It was _always_ an act.

"And what exactly would I _do_ if I ever got out of here, Agent Romanoff," he snapped, for the first time since they'd put him in his cage, losing his temper. He regretted it as soon as he saw the way Romanoff eyes widened minutely, as soon as he saw the startled triumph of discovery in her eyes. "Just leave," he muttered, face turned as far away from her as it could be.

* * *

Natasha hadn't been expecting anything from Loki. Or well, perhaps that wasn't true. She'd been expecting the usual scorn and defiance he always met her with, but she hadn't been expecting the defeat in his eyes. She hadn't been expecting the way he'd looked at her and asked what he'd do if they ever let him out—as if he was expecting, ready—to die in that cell.

She didn't believe he knew where the tesseract was. She'd never believed he knew. As for whether he'd been mind-controlled, she hadn't really considered that an option until just then. Loki was obviously a skilled actor. She knew that from dealing with him herself and from everything Thor had told them, so she couldn't believe anything he said, but there had been something about the way he'd looked back at her. The self-hatred in his eyes.

She could remember being in the same place; the chains around her wrist as she talked to SHIELD. It was funny how everyone assumed the evil part of you was real, but the good part of you was a lie. She remembered trying to hide the fear, and every time it surfaced, someone would accuse her of trying to manipulate them, but she hadn't even been trying to let them see it.

Only Barton had ever seemed to understand. Barton, who was trapped inside his own mind and stuck. Because of Loki.

Loki, who might have been mind-controlled too. She wondered if he'd had a Barton; it didn't seem like it. She wondered how lonely that must have been; no wonder he was bitter and suspicious. She wondered if she should even feel sorry for him. He'd killed 80 people, but hadn't she done worse?

She wondered if she even cared if he was innocent anymore, but then, he was still responsible for Barton, and she didn't know how to forgive that.

* * *

"I hate just sitting around," Tony complained. Romanoff had disappeared a while ago, leaving the rest of them to sit around and wait for her verdict. Everyone but Thor and Tony had wondered off to go do something.

"I thank you for everything you've done, Stark," Thor said suddenly. Or at least it felt sudden to Tony.

"I, uh." He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling just as suddenly uncomfortable. "I mean, I didn't really do anything."

"Without you, I doubt the truth would ever have been fully discovered about Loki." Thor frowned. "I'm ashamed that I don't have the faith I once did in my brother."

"I can't exactly blame you there," Tony answered. "It's not like he gives you a lot to work with."

"Perhaps, but I should have been there." Thor sighed, and in that moment, he really did look like a god. Old and tired. But more than that he looked like an older brother—an older brother who had been hurt, but still looked at Loki as his responsibility. "I should have stopped him falling altogether."

"I'm not sure you can save a guy who thinks it okay to dig around in someone else's brain," Tony answered, and he meant it as a joke, a half-hearted way to pull Thor out of the memories that are clearly bothering him, but the way Thor looked over at him was anything but joking.

"What means you?"

"When I was with Loki," Tony said, and the way Thor was looking at him was so intense, he was sure he'd done something wrong. He just didn't know what. "He just decided he'd go poking around my mind. Look at my memories."

"While he had you under his control?"

"Well, no, but… still." He felt like Thor was somehow scolding him, like _he_ did something wrong here, but he was sure he hadn’t. He _knew_ Loki was the one who was wrong to go poking around his mind. He knew.

"Then what is the problem?"

"What do you mean, what's the problem?" Tony snapped, and Thor blinked at him, eyebrows furrowing.

"Is mind reading not a common occurrence here on Midgard?"

"I—" And Tony was suddenly stumped. Left with a giant whole in everything he knew and had assumed, and suddenly Loki's confusion, his desire to understand when Tony had been so furious suddenly made sense.

"Man of Iron?" Thor asked, still looking confused.

"You don't condemn reading other people's minds on Asgard?" he asked slowly, and Thor's frown deepened.

"No," he said. "It's common practice to share thoughts. Sometimes feelings if one is particularly close. Not everyone is particularly skilled in the talent, but everyone has exchanged thoughts at least a few times. Loki is quite adept at the practice. Perhaps too adept. He was often in trouble for shifting people's thoughts to his will or making them do what he wished."

"He wasn't punished for that?" Tony asked.

"Not severely. Odin saved his real punishments for when Loki was actually acting out and not pranking others," Thor said, and Tony could only blink at that—at the idea that reaching into his head and changing something was a _prank_ to Loki.

No wonder he'd been so surprised at Tony's reaction.


	8. What to Tell Your Resident God When He Won't Believe You Don't Believe He's Evil Anymore

"I'm going to let you out of your chains now," Fury said. He had the door to Loki's cell opened, the guard and Captain America right behind him. He shifted further in, never taking his eyes off Loki as he came closer. It was as if he were afraid Loki would lunge out and bite or something. As if biting were Loki's thing. 

Loki stared at Fury, the director's dark skin shining in the bright lights of the room where Loki was being held. Loki was sure he'd lost his mind, or he was hallucinating, or maybe the SHIELD leader was actually the one who had lost his mind. Honestly, any one of those options might have been true.

"Feel free," Loki answered the mortal, raising one eyebrow. If it were possible, the human regarded him with an even warier expression.

"If you try anything, Rogers here will stop you," Fury told him. "So, will Johnson. His gun will more than take you down." The guard to the left's finger twitched over the trigger, and Loki had no trouble imagining him firing off a shot if he were threatened.

"Why would I go and do a thing like that when I'm having such fun talking to you?" Loki asked. He could feel his head pounding behind his eyes, his ears ringing, his stomach lurching. It had been too long since he'd eaten, slept, since he'd recharged his magic. As much as it wasn't helping him focus, he refused to let himself be baited into whatever trap Fury was laying out for him.

Fury gave him one last wary look before stepping forward, his right hand reaching out, inserting the key into the manacle around Loki's right ankle. Loki watched him passively as it came free, then his left, onto his hands. Fury stepped back, his eye still downcast, focused on Loki's hands--as if that was where the attack was going to come from--and Loki _moved_.

He twisted to the side, his leg kicking out at Fury, and Fury was thrown against the bars of his cell with a loud crack, his single eye half closed, a dazed expression on his face. Loki hadn't hit him hard enough to actually hurt him; he thought. Roger's startled yell warning him to step sideways, to move out of the way. Rogers followed after him almost effortlessly, but Loki was already watching the boy holding the gun to the left; he was sweating, his eyes wide, nostrils flaring. Loki only had to line up the shot.

He stepped again, ignoring the spots dancing before his eyes as he waited for Rogers to come at him, watching as the man pulled his shield half off his back, locking his determined blue eyes on Loki and having no idea what was in store for him. 

* * *

Natasha turned around a tent at a run, sprinting down the strip of fabric as fast as she could. Which was pretty damn fast. She still had a feeling it wasn't enough. She'd been all the way in the command tent, watching as Fury and Rogers went to speak to Loki about his alleged mind control.

They hadn't even told Thor or Stark they were going to go talk to him, choosing to go with just Steve, Fury, and an inexperienced agent named Johnson. Natasha knew now what a mistake that had been; of course, Loki wasn't about to just believe they were suddenly going to trust him. If he was going to open up to anyone, it would be Stark. Hadn't they already proved that?

She couldn't help thinking, remembering, how she hadn't been any different. When someone offered a peace treaty freely given, there was always a trick to be expected, and it was always safer to bite the hand that tried to pet you. 

She threw open the flap to the lab tent, making Stark jump from where he was seated on his workbench. Thor was no longer there, having evidently retreated to wherever gods of lightening go when they're brooding.

"Stark," she said, proud of herself when her voice came out level. He just raised an eyebrow at her, the bastard. "We need your help, come on."

She turned and sprinted back the way she came, but she could hear from the way he fumbled with the tools on his workbench that he was at least coming.

Stark followed her around out of the tent and back across the rocky ground to the solid building where they were keeping Loki. She could feel his eyes on her face, his suspicions rising as he seemed to realize what exactly had happened. Well, he _was_ a genius.

She shoved the guard outside the tent out of her way, casting Stark an impatient look when he hesitated. Then she was pushing into the room, watching as everyone inside froze. Fury was half-unconscious against the bars of the cell; Loki and Steve were facing off against each other, Johnson standing just outside the bars with his gun trained on Loki, Steve almost right in front of his shot.

And Natasha didn't have to be a genius to know from the way Loki's eyes flicked from the gun to Steve and back again what he'd been planning to do. 

Stark stumbled in behind her, his eyes widening with something a little too close to anger to help the situation.

"What the fuck is going on in here?" he asked, and Loki whirled toward him, his eyes widening, eyes filling with some emotion that hadn't been there a second ago, gone too fast to be fake.

"Everyone needs to just take a breath," Natasha said, using her best calming voice. She saw Loki's eyes flash, Steve's hand tightening on his shield as he watched the god, and Stark tensed even further as he watched the supersoldier, and this was getting out of hand entirely too fast.

"I—" Loki started, only for Johnson to pull the trigger of his gun, sending the bolt of energy straight for Loki's chest.

"Wait!" Stark shouted, his voice high and panicked, and Natasha was stepping forward, but it was already too late. She watched as the god took a strange half-step to the side before raising his hands, the blue bold of energy from Johnson's gun colliding with a pulsing green field of light that erected itself around Loki.

Then Loki was lowering his hands, his face pale, dark circles under his eyes that hadn't been there before, and Natasha could swear he was breathing heavily. Except gods didn't get out of breath, did they?

"Loki…" Stark stepped forward, one hand outstretched just as Loki's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed.

* * *

"What did you _expect_ to happen?" Tony snapped. He was standing in front of Loki, Bruce bent over the god with Steve and Fury in front of him. He still hadn't decided which of them he'd shoot first. "You'd just waltz in, and he'd suddenly trust you?" Tony snorted, ignoring how Fury's frown turned into a scowl. "'Cause Loki is such a trusting person."

"Stark," Fury snapped, his one eye flashing. Tony shut his mouth as he stared back. "You're beginning to look a little attached."

"Really?" Tony answered, and Fury just frowned at him like he was the one being unreasonable. Which he wasn't. Tony wasn't attached. He knew what attached looked like, and this wasn't it. "That's what you're going to go with?"

Honestly, Tony _didn't_ care about the guy. Obviously. Loki was a psycho wrapped in problems wrapped in problems, and Tony didn't need that. It was just that Loki was... well—he needed help, and Tony knew how to give it to him. It had been Tony who had figured out he had been mind controlled; it had been Tony who had gotten him to talk. Tony wasn't about to just let Fury send the guy off the deep end when he could _do_ something about it.

"I would appreciate you not speaking of me as if I were not here," Loki said, his voice cutting quietly across Tony and Fury's echoing argument. Tony half-turned toward him, keeping one eye on Fury and Rogers.

After Loki had fainted—yes fainted, because Tony wasn't about to do him the kindness of saying he passed out—Rogers had dragged him to the medical tent—because SHIELD had apparently had the time to set up every kind of tent imaginable. Bruce had laid him out on the table just in time for Loki to snap awake, his limb flying everywhere. It had taken an absurd amount of time to calm Loki down and even longer for him to agree to let Bruce look at him. Though Tony had the distinct impression it was more about him being too exhausted to protest than him actually giving in.

The guy really did look terrible, significantly worse than he'd looked just two days ago when he'd been dragging Tony across a wasteland. His eyes were beginning to sink in, his cheeks gaunt, his entire face a strange pale translucent color that Tony was sure even gods weren't supposed to look, and Tony could tell from the way he clenched his hands down on the edge of his Asgardian outfit that he was trembling faintly. He didn't know what was wrong with Loki, but it wasn't good.

"Well, do you have something important to say?" Tony asked him, raising an eyebrow as Loki glared at him through the long black hair hanging around his face. "You know, like, why you decided to attack the director of SHIELD when he was letting you go?"

"You mean, why I decided to take my opportunity to escape?" Loki answered. "Or why I decided not to kill all of you?"

"Like you could kill anyone in your state," Tony snapped.

"I'm not familiar with this person called anyone," Loki answered, his voice much too calm for Tony's sanity.

"Your pulse is so slow," Bruce said, interrupting Tony just as he was opening his mouth to insult Loki again. Bruce had his fingers against the pulse point at Loki's wrist, his lips turning down in a frown as he stared down at his watch. "Is that normal?"

"Yes," Loki told him. Bruce raised his head, suspicion written across his face.

"Are you lying?" he asked, and Loki laughed, his voice high and mocking.

"Every word out of my mouth is a lie, human. Therefore, every word is the truth," Loki said. As if that made any sense. Bruce sighed and went back to counting Loki's pulse.

"That doesn't make sense," Rogers said, frowning. Loki fixed green eyes on Mr. perfect for one second, two, three before speaking again, tilting his head in a confused, innocent sort of motion that Tony didn't buy for a second.

"Really?"

"Why are you still here?" Tony asked Rogers.

"Be careful, Stark," Fury said, shaking his head as he turned toward the tent's entrance. It sounded just as much like a threat as a warning. Tony felt his jaw clench as the tent flapped behind Fury, but he refused to think about it. He refused to be bullied and silenced. He _wouldn't_ be. No one would ever make him feel as if he was less than he was. He'd had enough of that growing up.

"And you, Rogers?" he asked, raising on eyebrow, half a mocking smile on his lips. Rogers stiffened like Tony had electrocuted him or something. Tony didn't know, maybe he had. Did people smile in the 1940s?

"I can't just leave Loki unguarded?"

"By all means, stay and guard me," Loki muttered. "You did such a wonderful job last time." Tony felt the smile widen on his face, and Rogers' posture stiffened even more in front of him.

"Then guard him outside," Tony said.

"But—"

"I believe the translation is 'get out,'" Loki said helpfully. Tony had a strange moment wondering what it would be like to actually be _friends_ with someone like Loki. To know he cared and wasn't just insulting you to be an ass. He didn't even know if Loki was capable of something like that.

"Fine," Rogers huffed once before lifting the tent entrance and stepping out.

"Tony," Bruce said, his voice low. A warning that Tony had no intention of listening to. He smiled widely; Bruce just sighed at him, muttering something under his breath as he started walking toward the tent's entrance.

"Go a different way so he doesn't see you," Tony hissed, and Bruce sighed again but ducked under the edge of the tent about a foot to the right of the entrance.

"Now that you have me alone," Loki asked, raising one black eyebrow at him, his face a mask of tired indifference. And damn, Tony thought _he_ looked smooth when he did that. "What are you going to do with me?"

"Do you want a drink?" Tony asked, and Loki stared at him, blinking slowly, carefully. In that moment, he could easily have been a cat. "I find drinking really helps with the hard conversations," Tony continued, sitting himself down on the roller chair beside the silver table that Loki was seated on.

"That would be because you're an alcoholic," Loki informed him.

"Yeah," he laughed lightly, ignoring how Loki's green eyes narrowed on him. "I suppose."

"I don't suppose that if I accept your invitation of a drink, you'll tell why you sought to speak to me alone?" Loki asked, his voice low, chin high, staring at Tony as if he were a problem to be solved. 

"Did Fury even tell you why he was letting you go?" Tony asked, swiveling sideways on his chair and then back.

"He must have neglected to mention that part."

"It's because I think the same thing happened to you that happened to Barton," Tony said, but Loki’s face was a strange mask of careful blankness. "Whoever or whatever sent you here was also controlling your mind."

"You are wrong."

"Am I?" Tony asked, and then he had to clamp his hand down hard on the chair to keep from flinching away when Loki glared at him, twisting his body around so his face was just a foot away from Tony's.

"Honestly, you would think a group of spies would come up with a better way to convince someone to talk," Loki said, his green eyes flashing, and his trembling had intensified.

"I'm not trying to manipulate you," Tony told him.

"Really," Loki answered, his eyes rolling before he'd even opened his mouth.

"Well, maybe a little," Tony conceded, and Loki blinked, his mouth parting in surprise for half a second before he pressed his lips back together, narrowing his eyes in something close to annoyance. Well, annoyance was better than indifference. "But that doesn't mean I'm lying."

"I don't know where the tesseract is," Loki told him.

"I didn't ask where it was," Tony answered.

"But you want to know."

"Uh, yeah," Tony said. "I'd like to, you know, save the world and stuff, but I don't think _you_ actually know where it is."

"Why?" Loki asked, his green eyes still narrowed suspiciously. It wasn't that he couldn't understand Loki's suspicion, because he could. It wasn't like Tony was the most trusting person around, but it _was_ getting just a little annoying to try to convince Loki to help himself.

"Your eyes," Tony said, and Loki blinked at him, avoiding his gaze awkwardly. "And the scepter, and that you didn't meet up with everyone else when you got away, and the fact that you brainwashed me differently."

"If you're tricking me—" Loki started.

"I don't think you're really in the position to be making threats," Tony interrupted, and Loki's gaze flicked to the ceiling, half-rolling his eyes and half-sighing like he was being extremely put upon.

"I'm always in the position to make a threat," Loki answered, and Tony couldn't stop the smile that spread across his lips at Loki's petulant tone.

"At least you're not denying it anymore," he said.

"It still wasn't the same as Barton," Loki told him, green eyes locking back on his face.

"Then what was it like?"

"It was—" Loki started, but he was interrupted as Thor shoved his way through the tent opening, the flap blowing behind him. His eyes locked on Loki's face, and Tony could see Loki close himself off.


	9. When Your Brother, Except Not Really, Won't Shut Up and Your Friend, Except Not Really, Won't Show Up, the Only Solution is to Run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all you're lovely comments!!

Loki glared at Thor, who, of course, ignored him. Stark was standing to his right, looking somewhere between annoyed and amused as Thor stood in front of Loki, his eyes on Loki as if he were afraid Loki was going to teleport away. Loki only wished he had the energy.

"Have you come to drag me back to Asgard, Thor," he asked, raising his top lip in a sneer as he said it. "Now that you know I truly do not know where the tesseract is?"

"Whoa," Stark said, leaning forward onto the ball of his feet as he spoke, his head turning toward Thor. "No one's dragging anyone anywhere, right, Thor?"

"Yes," Thor frowned, his eyes still locked on Loki. "I believe it would do no good to bring you home, now."

"No good for whom?" Loki answered, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he wasn't being smart. He knew he should be courting and flattering Thor until Thor trusted him, until Thor would vouch for him when they did return to Asgard, but Loki had spent half his life pretending for Thor, for Odin, and when he had led the coup against Thor, he had thought he would never have to do it again.

As much as his hate and bitterness had already cost him, the simple truth was that he didn't know how to let them go. He didn't want to. So, he wouldn't. No matter what it cost him.

"Loki, you are tired." Thor shook his head, his blonde hair waving as he did. "You should rest before we speak again."

"So, you will let me regain my powers while I reside in your custody?" he asked, only just realizing what he'd said when Stark's gaze shifted to him, sharp and interested.

"You are not well," Thor answered as if this explained everything, as if it could wash away Loki's anger. "You need food and rest."

"I need no such things," Loki snapped, seething at Thor's tone. At how his words were pushed aside as if they meant nothing—less than nothing, but then, Thor had never really listened to him when he talked.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Stark asked, his dark eyes on Loki's face.

"What would it have done?" he answered, and Stark just continued to stare at him, his eyebrows furrowing as if Loki were a puzzle he was trying to solve. He turned his face away.

"I'll get you something," Stark said, his voice holding a strange promise that Loki couldn't help but believe.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Natasha asked. Steve jumped from where he was leaning against the tent pole, his legs stretched out before him. He brought his arms up, crossing them in front of his chest as he faced her. He was still in his suit, the red, white, and blue making his blue eyes stand out.

"Stark kicked me out," he said.

"How old are you?" Natasha answered, rolling her eyes at him, because, really, Stark _kicked him out_?

"And have you noticed the way Stark only ever considers himself?" he asked, ignoring her. She sighed but sidled up next to him, leaning on the pole beside him, her arm just brushing his. "If there's any possible way for him to help himself, he does, regardless of the consequences."

"Why do you let Stark bother you so much?" Natasha asked, nudging his shoulder. "Are you jealous?"

"That doesn't even make sense," Steve answered, glaring over at her. "Why would I be jealous of Stark?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Fury respects him; Coulson likes him; you were friends with his father, and Stark is nothing like him."

"You think I'm jealous of Stark because he's not like his father?" Steve asked, frowning up at the sky, squinting his eyes.

"I think you're jealous, because Stark grew up in a world you didn't. He had what you didn't, and he still chose to be what you consider selfish and inconsiderate."

"And you don't?" Steve answered, his voice pitched with just a touch of annoyance, his eyes still cast up. "Think he's selfish and inconsiderate."

"Sure, sometimes," she said. "But he's really not so bad. Besides, there are reasons for the way he is that you don't know about."

"Huh," Steve answered, and she just smiled, touching his arm lightly as she walked away. Sometimes Steve was the smartest person she knew, and sometimes he was the densest.

* * *

Tony leaned over Bruce as he typed in the equation for the gamma radiation tracking formula. He'd been on his way to get Loki food when he'd seen Bruce biting his lip and frowning at his screen. He hadn't _meant_ to get distracted, but in the next few minutes, he was sending an agent to Loki with food before he knew what he was doing. It wasn’t that he was avoiding Loki. He was just busy.

Besides, Thor was with Loki, and Tony would only get in the way of their talk when he couldn't stop thinking about the way Loki had been looking at him with those green eyes, tired and desperate and imploring, and Tony had felt so—

At least he knew what he was doing when he was debating with Bruce about which formula would actually work best, and whether they should include the spectrometer readings from before Loki was captured or not. They'd eventually settled on an answer based on Tony's initial readings on the scepter.

"If you want to do this?" Bruce asked again, giving Tony an irritated look where he was still hovering over Bruce's shoulder, watching him with a slight smile that he was sure was a little manic.

"No, no," he answered. "You type in the gamma radiation tracking formula."

"It's not a—" Bruce started before stopping himself and shaking his head. Tony's smile widened; Bruce had been arguing a losing battle anyway. "We don't know that it'll work."

"It'll work," Tony said.

"It'll take time," Bruce answered, and Tony rolled his eyes. Honestly, _everything_ came with a drawback. This was a win. If it worked that was.

Bruce let out a breath as he looked over the equation one more time before hitting enter. The system lit up like it was Christmas, the United States a dotted map before them on the screen. Tony smile broadly at it, turning to face Bruce triumphantly.

"And you thought it wouldn't work," he said. Bruce just shook his head.

"What's going on?" Rogers asked, stepping into their tent. He looked as out of place as he always did, his workout shirt hugging his body and his pants probably a size too small. Seriously, someone needed to introduce the idea of T-shirts to the guy.

"We may have found a way to track the tesseract," Bruce said, ever the optimist. Tony forced himself to keep smirking at Rogers as his mind flew back to the medical tent, and he was reminded once again of Loki, of the tesseract. But this was _important._ And Loki would be _fine._

No one needed Tony standing by his bedside just in case he needed a hug.

"No," Tony answered, leaning back against a counter as Rogers frowned at him. "We _did_ find a way to track the tesseract."

"How?" Rogers asked.

"We're using the information we gathered from the scepter and the gamma radiation the tesseract will give off to ping the different satellites and spectrometers for the specific energy signal it'll give off," Tony said, and he didn't bother to disguise how disgustingly proud of himself he felt. He'd earned it after all; he and Bruce _had_ been pretty smart.

"But what if the scepter isn't with the tesseract?" Rogers asked, because _he had to._

"Then we're screwed," Tony shrugged, and Rogers was opening his mouth, his jaw clenching as he no doubt was preparing to lecture Tony on taking their mission seriously.

"If it works, we'll probably have a location in the next couple days," Bruce said, interrupted whatever Rogers was about to say.

"Let's hope it works, then," Rogers muttered.

* * *

Loki lay on his back, ignoring Thor to the best of his ability when the agent showed up with a large pile of food and a bottle of water, saying Mr. Stark had told him to deliver this to him right away. Loki _shouldn't_ have cared that the mortal hadn't bothered to show up, that he had thought it fine to hand Loki off to someone else as if he were nothing more than unwanted change.

After all, he couldn't exactly blame the mortal for not wanting to spend any more time with him than necessary. He'd already helped Loki more than he'd expected.

"You should eat, Loki," Thor said, and Loki wished he would just _leave._ Loki knew he wasn't particularly in possession of many brain cells, but one didn't need to be a genius to know that Loki didn't want him there.

"I will," Loki told him, his eyes locked on the ceiling of the tent. It was a dark green with the rippling beginning of a tear just to the left of his eye line. He wondered if when it rained, whether water would drip on him or if the tent would stop enough for him to stay dry.

"You let yourself grow too weak," Thor said, apparently oblivious to Loki's mood. "If you would not insist on using your magic—"

"Do not speak of something you know nothing about," Loki snapped, slipping his legs over the side and sitting up. Thor knew nothing about his magic, because Thor had never bothered to learn. Thor had always assumed whatever he wanted to believe about Loki's magic. Even after Loki had disproved him over and over again.

"I had only meant to help," Thor answered, blinking at him with his blue eyes wide and confused. As if Loki was the one who had offended.

It was always Loki.

"Yes, well," Loki rolled his eyes, turning his head away. "Don't."

"Loki—"

"Please Leave, Thor," Loki answered, and Thor hesitated for so long that Loki almost thought that he wouldn't go, but eventually, he sighed and stood, leaving through the tent's entrance with a swish of his cape.

Loki sighed, locking his eyes on the plate of food still sitting off to the side. Thor was right about one thing. He did need to eat. He needed to gain his strength back if he wanted to stand a chance of getting away. He pulled the plate toward him, setting it on his lap as he began to eat.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually _eaten_. The Other hadn't been particularly forthcoming about providing him with any more than was absolutely necessary. Why give him actual food when they could have just cast spells on him to keep him from passing out, to keep him alive.

Even though the food wasn't near enough, he could still feel his energy returning. He could feel his strength surging back into his bones as he lay across the hard metal table and closed his eyes. He needed to sleep at least a few hours while he could. His best chance would be to try and get away during the night, but to do that he would only be able to get a portion of his strength back. It was his best chance. His only chance.

He wouldn't just be running from SHIELD but The Other too.

* * *

Natasha watched as Fury frowned at the screen, his one eye locked on the camera trained on Loki. She could tell by the frown on his face that he was thinking hard; she just didn't know what he was thinking hard about.

"You think we can't trust him?" Coulson asked. He was standing on the other side of the command table, his arms crossed. He looked like he always did, that strange half-smile on his face as if nothing could possible trouble him.

"I don't know what to think," Fury answered.

"Stark seems to trust him," Natasha said, and Fury's frown deepened, narrowing his eyes as he continued to watch the screen. Loki was just laying on his table in the medical tent, his eyes closed as his breathing slowed. He was asleep—either that or he was an extremely good actor. Which Natasha wouldn't have been surprised about, considering Loki was the God of Lies.

"That's what I'm worried about," Fury muttered.

"What?" Coulson frowned, and Natasha swore that was the most worried she'd ever seen the man. "You don't think Stark was right about how Loki was mind-controlled?"

"I’m sure he was right. Stark is very rarely wrong," Fury answered, finally stepping away from command table. " Stark being right doesn't change the fact that Loki is dangerous. Thor told us what he did before he came here. We all can tell he's not the most stable, and I was there when he first arrived. When he gave his big speech about how freedom was life's great lie. He may have been mind-controlled, but no one's values change that much."

"You never know what's really in people's heads," Coulson said, his voice soft. "After all, there was a time we didn't trust Stark."

"Loki seems to trust Stark," Natasha said, her eyes on Loki's sleeping form. She couldn't help but remember a time when she had been in his place, sleeping on a metal table, watched, alone, scared, and determined not to show it. "He may just need the push in the right direction. I did."

"You could rely on Barton," Fury answered. "Can anyone really rely on Stark?"


	10. Getting Caught Running Away After Dark and Confessing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments!

Loki flicked his eyes, the magic too familiar to bother with an incantation anymore. He watched as his clone appeared on the metal table, the rise and fall of its chest as lifelike as Loki's own had been. It would be enough to fool anyone who came to check on him, unless they decided to try and wake him. In which case they would get an unpleasant surprise. Fortunately, he planned to already be gone by then.

The light from the outside had dimmed, only the moon's light shining through. The activity at the SHIELD camp had dwindled down. He'd already manipulated the camera in the corner, and it glowed with a faint green energy when he looked at it.

He sighed, the tips of his fingers already beginning to shake. He hadn't rested enough. Hadn't eaten enough. Hadn't realized how drained he actually was. The spells were both easy, ones he'd been doing for centuries, and yet he could already feel his strength flagging.

He shook his head as he stepped toward the entrance, flicking his fingers with a muttered word as he made himself invisible. He just needed to get a few good miles away, and he could find a good place to eat, to rest so he could teleport away without any adverse effects. He would teleport somewhere where no one—not Odin, Heimdall, SHIELD or The Other would find him.

He breathed out a harsh breath as he stepped out of the tent.

* * *

Tony was just stepping out of his science tent when he saw Thor. It was late, even by Tony standards, it was late. Bruce had headed off to bed a few hours ago, but Tony had stayed up, his head full of Loki and the tesseract and equations and Loki.

"Thor?" Tony called, and Thor turned toward him. He looked tired, his face half-drawn as he smiled at Tony.

"Man of Iron."

"It's just Tony," Tony corrected, shaking his head and wondering vaguely what they taught Asgardians to make them want to call him Man of Iron. "Where's Loki?"

"He is still resting in your medical room," Thor said, frowning as he answered. "Have you need of him?"

"No, I just…" Tony was frowning at Thor too. They were frowning at each other, and Tony was seriously beginning to hope that Thor didn't actually not know his brother _that_ well. "You left him alone?"

"He requested it."

"Right." Of course, Loki had _requested_ it, but that didn't mean you fucking _did_ it. "And didn't you think that maybe he would take the opportunity to sneak out?"

"Loki is safe here." Thor frowned harder, his eyebrows drawn down low over his eyes, and Tony wanted to smack his forehead. "He knows we believe him to be innocent. Why would he try to leave?"

"Maybe because he has trust issues up the whazoo." Tony rolled his eyes, willing himself to be patient. Thor just didn't understand. He didn't understand what it felt like when no one could understand you.

"I do not understand your—"

"Oh, for the…" Tony trailed off, turning on his heel as he headed toward the medical tent.

It only took them a few minutes to get there, Thor trailing behind him with a worried expression plastered across his face, and Tony couldn't help that his annoyance sort of just evaporated. It was obvious that Thor cared; he just didn't know how to show it, and it didn't exactly help that he really _didn't_ understand Loki.

Tony pushed the entrance to the medical tent open and froze. Loki was laying across the silver table, breathing easily with his eyes closed. Tony blinked, about to let the fabric fall and step away to let Loki continue to sleep, but Thor was moving past him, pushing Tony out of the way to move toward Loki.

"Thor?" Tony called, his voice a harsh whisper.

"Loki is a light sleeper," Thor answered, his voice booming and loud. "He would have woken." He reached down, his hand resting on Loki's shoulder as he shook harshly. Loki didn't move in the slightest as Thor shook him, didn't even stir, just continued breathing easily as he apparently continued to sleep.

"It's not real," Tony said, and Thor sighed heavily.

"It appears so."

* * *

Loki froze as he heard the voices behind him, approaching him. He winced as his foot fell just wrong and there was a loud crunch against the grass and soil. He was invisible but that didn't mean that the humans couldn't hear him if he wasn't careful. He turned his head, listening as the two figures came closer.

"You search that side of camp," the voice said, and Loki had to restrain himself from shouting in frustration. Couldn't Stark _leave him alone_? Was it so hard to just stay away when one walked away? "I'll look over here."

"Should we not inform the Director that my brother is missing?" Thor's echoing voice asked, and Loki frowned. They _already_ knew he was gone. Thor must have checked up on him, ever the trusting brother.

"No," Stark answered, and Loki could see him now, only a few feet away, his dark hair outlined in the moonlight. "Let's just see if we can find him first. Besides, everyone's asleep anyway."

"As you say, Man of Iron," Thor said, his voice low and dubious.

There was a loud stomping sound that could only be Thor walking away, and Loki stared at Stark, who hadn't moved. The mortal was just staring back at where Thor had apparently retreated, looking as if he was waiting for something. It took him another five minutes or so to even move, his dark eyes turning straight ahead, shifting left and then right before turning straight ahead again, his smirk clear.

"I know you're there," Stark said. "I had JARVIS track your magic signature." Loki tensed, refusing to move even as Stark's eyes continued to scan the area. "Come on, Loki," Stark almost groaned. "We're trying to _help_ you." Loki had to restrain himself from snorting at that one.

"I know you don't believe me," Stark said, shifting slightly, his right foot tracing some pattern into the ground as he spoke. "God knows I've been there," he cleared his throat, raising his head to the sky, and Loki suddenly knew he was about to make a confession. Norns knew, the man had enough things to confess, but it still seemed like an odd strategy just to manipulate Loki.

"Nothing I did was ever good enough for my father, and then when my parents died and I took over the business, I thought I had it all figured out. I thought I only really needed myself, some good sex, and my workshop and that was enough," Stark paused, his voice low and blank, and Loki felt as if he'd been drenched in ice water. Where was the mortal _going_ with his confession? Loki already _knew_ he could only rely on himself.

"It took getting kidnapped and tortured for me to realize that everything I’d made myself had just been a way to give my old man the finger. And that wasn't who I wanted to be," Stark continued, letting a slow breath out, his eyes lowering, flicking left and then right, scanning as if he was still searching for Loki. "I'm just saying that right now, you think you have it all figured out, Loki, but you don't."

Loki felt like casting off his invisibility spell just to rip Stark's throat out, just to insult him and spit in his face and ask how dare _he_ think he knew anything about what it was like to be cast aside, punished for being himself for a millennium. Stark had no idea, and he dared to stand in front of Loki and spout some nonsense as if it was Loki who didn't know what he was doing. As if a 1,000 years hadn't taught him enough about what other people thought of him, as if he should cross his fingers and wait and hope the world suddenly changed for him.

"Cease speaking, Stark," Loki snapped, his spell gone melting away with his thoughts. He could feel the blood rising in his cheeks, hot against the ice in his veins. "Before you say something truly incompetent." He ignored the way Stark's eyebrow just rose, calm and steady. "If you’re what passes for a genius, I pity the humans whose intelligence is less than yours. They must be on the level of worms."

"Where were you even going to go?" Stark asked, ignoring him completely. "I can't imagine Asgard's going to be too friendly. Or your buddies that brainwashed you the first time."

"That's my problem!" Loki answered, and Stark didn't even flinch away from him, his dark eyes hard.

"It doesn't have to be."

"And why not? Why do you so wish to swoop to my rescue, Stark. What about saving the day is so appealing to you?"

"When people need help, I like to help them," he answered, dark and steady and determined.

"Just another way to give your old man the finger," Loki asked, quoting Stark's earlier words.

"Maybe." Stark shrugged. "I don't claim to be perfect. I just claim to care. Do you?"

"Care?" Loki asked, and he hesitated for a fraction of a second, the part of him that wanted _someone, anyone_ to understand just how much he wanted to care, just how much he was afraid to care warring against the part of him that knew how dangerous it was, how much it was better not to. "Of course, I don't."

"I don't think that's true," Stark told him.

"You _don't_ know me!" Loki snapped back, but Stark just ignored him, keeping on talking as if Loki wasn't there. It was infuriating. Loki hated it when people ignored him.

"If you didn’t care, Thor wouldn’t bother you so much. You're father—"

"He's _not_ my father," Loki interrupted.

"—wouldn't be such a sore spot. You wouldn't be running away."

"That makes no sense," Loki informed him. Really, these mortals they thought they had everything figured out when they didn't know anything.

"I think you know it does," Stark answered.

"And you?" Loki asked. "Why do you care?"

"I don't know," Stark shrugged, his eyebrows crinkling as if it could really be true, but Loki knew a lie when he heard one. "Why not?"

Loki sighed, feeling his heart somewhere in his throat, the fire burning out as he turned his head away. He could already feel his anger diminishing. The indignation and irritation burning in the background, already making room for the guilt and self-loathing to take root again. If there was one thing he'd learned from his time with the Other, it was that it was so much better to be angry.

If anything, he wouldn't be getting out of the camp that night anyway. And besides, Stark was— Stark was fascinating. As much as Loki knew he shouldn't allow himself to look twice, as much as Loki knew it would end badly—it had already ended badly—he couldn't stop himself from remembering the texture of Stark's mind, how he had surprised him, and it made him want to look again.

No, he wasn't going anywhere tonight.

* * *

Tony watched as Loki threw himself back onto his metal table. He still looked tired, though decided less so than before. Maybe that was just because Tony had pissed him off enough that he'd forgotten he was tired in the first place. Honestly though, Tony was leaning more toward Loki was just better at hiding it now. He had a feeling something more was going on with the guy than he was letting on.

Loki had just perched himself on his metal table when Thor arrived back at the medical tent. He looked near frantic, his red cap billowing out behind him as he swept past the tent's opening in a frenzy. Tony half-wondered if he'd missed the thunderstorm outside or if Thor was getting better at controlling himself.

"Friend Stark," Thor said, his voice loud and booming. "I fear we will have to go to the Director. I have seen no sign of—" he cut himself off abruptly as his eyes locked on Loki's form, and he seemed to deflate. "Loki."

"Thor," Loki answered, his eyes rolling up to the ceiling and staying there. If anyone owned the award for sending a message through his eyerolls, it was Loki.

"Brother—" Thor started, and Tony winced as he swiveled in his chair.

"I am not your brother," Loki answered, his voice low and filled with an unspoken threat.

"Why did you try to leave?" Thor asked. "You must know that this is the safest place for you."

"Where you can keep an eye on me?" Loki asked, lowering his head so he could look Thor in the eyes. His green eyes were dark and narrowed and dangerous, and Tony was glad it wasn't him on the receiving end of that, because even when Loki had been glaring at him before, he'd never looked as if he would _actually_ attack Tony. Sure, he looked angry, but if Tony was being honest, Loki had looked angrier at the world than at Tony personally.

Which had felt better than he'd been expecting it to.

Tony pissed people off. It was just what he did. He'd made Pepper beyond angry, and she was one of the most patient people he knew. He made Happy want to run him over with his own car. He made Fury want to give himself a second eyepatch. Tony just pissed people off, it was who he was, and he refused to change himself to accommodate anyone else or anyone else's standard.

It wasn't that he didn't feel guilty or inconsiderate about what he'd said or done. After all, it wasn't like he set out to hurt the people he cared about, it just kind of happened when he wasn't paying attention. The guilt always came _later._ It came _after_ the shouting and the bad decision, and it wasn't like he was planning to _change_ anytime soon or anything.

So, when Loki had been glaring at him, he hadn't been expecting the wash of relief that had run through him when he'd realized that Loki wasn't _really_ mad at him. Just his situation. It was probably just because Loki could have killed him. The god had been angry enough.

"After all," Loki continued. "That _was_ how you knew I was gone, wasn't it? You couldn't trust that I'd stay put for a single night. Needless to say, you were right, but that's hardly the point, is it? After all, how can I trust you when you don't trust me?"

"I was not the one to discover you had left," Thor answered, frowning, and Loki blinked, long and slow and disbelieving.

"Yeah, that was actually me," Tony said, and Loki's eyes snapped to him, green and startled and wide. "Point Break here told me how he'd left you alone, and I thought you might take your opportunity."

"I see," Loki said, his eyes still locked on Tony, and Tony wondered vaguely what exactly he thought he saw, because Tony sure didn't see anything in particular.

"You should continue to rest, Loki," Thor said. "Your strength cannot have been restored."

"Very well," Loki answered, tilting his head slightly as he laid back on the uncomfortable table. Really, Tony needed to talk to Fury about getting Loki an actual bed.

"I will stay if you wish to leave, Friend Stark," Thor said, turning toward him with his eyes dark and worried. Tony lingered by the tent flap a second too long to be acceptable, Loki completely still on his metal table.


	11. The Battle Begins with Bangs and Mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your wonderful comments!!

Loki woke up with his back stiff and his head aching. When he opened his eyes, he was faced with the dark green canopy of the tent that he'd gone to sleep in for the past couple of days. After his initial night, SHIELD had given him his own tent, along with a sleeping bag, and a guard watching him at all times. Which really, sleeping on the floor wasn't all that much better than their blasted table had been. At least, he'd been off the floor before.

"Morning, sunshine," Stark's voice cut through the stale air of the tent, sounding about an octave too loud for how long ago Loki had woken up. He glared at the ceiling, refusing to respond. "Come on, reindeer," Stark insisted, and his voice sounded closer, the shuffling of his feet giving him away. "Up and at 'em. Things to do."

The only reason Loki was even still with SHIELD was because he didn't know where else he would go. He had his powers back, and it wasn't like _they_ could protect him from someone like the Other.

He had no reason to stick around. He was just… biding his time.

"Loki," Stark said, his face coming into view, hovering over Loki's body so he could stare down at him in that 'I'm not about to take no for an answer way' of his that Loki had grown to expect over the last few days.

"What?" Loki snapped, and Stark just smiled at him, some disturbing combination of bright and amused.

"We've found it," he said, and Loki raised an eyebrow.

* * *

"You've found it," Fury said, his eye locked on the screen where Bruce and Tony's equation pointed out the location of the tesseract.

"New York," Tony answered, biting his lip against the annoyance he felt washing through him. He didn't know why they were still talking. Why they were still standing around when they knew where the tesseract was. When the tesseract was in _his_ city.

"New York?" Loki asked, frowning over at the display.

"It is a large city here on Midgard," Thor answered, sounded unbelievably proud of himself for remembering.

"Yes, I'm _aware_ of that," Loki snapped, rolling his eyes. "The name simply sounded as if I'd heard it before."

"What more do you need!" Tony said, ignoring the way Loki turned toward him with an annoyed raise of his eyebrow.

"It is worth checking out, at least," Romanoff said, shifting her feet as she looked at Fury, and Tony could tell that even _she_ was tired of waiting for him to make up his mind. God, this was why Tony hated bureaucracy and working as a team and _people._

Ok, he didn't actually hate people, but it was temping sometimes.

"Let's go then, people," he said.

"Sir," Rogers asked, his voice low and tense, and Fury finally sighed, waving his hand as he nodded.

"Go."

Tony was the first one out of the tent, and he swore he could feel everyone's eyes on him as he headed toward his tent to retrieve his armor. It was a little battered but, all things considered, actually in pretty good condition. When he arrived back at the quinjet, Romanoff was just flipping the switches as the quinjet came to life.

"I'm going to fly ahead," Tony told them. "Do some recon." Rogers scowled at him, already opening his mouth to say some heroic, idiocy that Tony would doubtless ignore.

"That's not a good idea," Loki answered, and Tony swiveled toward him, half-surprised that Loki had spoken and half-offended that Loki didn't think he could handle himself.

"My brother is correct," Thor said, either ignoring or oblivious—which really, who knew at this point—to Loki's dirty look. "It is unwise to arrive without backup."

"I'll have backup," Tony snapped. "You'll be coming."

"Tony—" Bruce started, just poking his head out of the quinjet as Tony started his thrusters, and he ignored the worried, disapproving looks below him as he shot toward New York.

It didn't take him long before he could see his city, his equation pinpointing Barton's location the closer he got. Not that he really needed it.

Once he was within a hundred yards of the thing, he could practically feel the energy radiating from the nondescript rooftop. The waves of radiation and power bouncing off his suit as he approached, and he knew he was either right on time or too late.

He landed on the edge of the building, staring across the flat surface as Barton turned toward him, his eyes electric blue, his quiver slung across his back with his bow in hand. The doomsday machine was right behind him, the doctor guy that Thor apparently knew still working away on it as Tony lifted his face mask.

"What's up?" he asked. And ok, yeah. He probably could have thought of a better opening line but staring back at Barton and knowing he was being mind-controlled was more unnerving than he had expected it to be. With Loki, he hadn't known until it had already been over, and part of him still kind of blamed the guy. Even if he knew it was wrong.

With Barton, it was different. It was like he could see the strings being pulled. As if he really was nothing more than a puppet. Tony remembered suddenly what Loki had said about how his situation had been different than Barton's, and Tony couldn't help wondering just _how_ different. Just how much control Loki had had.

"They're almost here," Barton said, his voice quiet, firm. Unnerving.

"Yeah, well," Tony asked, his eyes flicking over to the machine and back again. "How about we just skip the here part and you just shut down the device?"

"There's no stopping this," Barton answered, and Tony barely had an instant to respond before the machine before him was whirling to life, a single blue beam shooting into the sky and opening a large grey and black portal in the New York skyline.

* * *

They were nearly in New York when the portal appeared, streaking into the sky in a brilliant flash. It was bigger than Loki had been expecting, pouring Chitauri out of the other side and onto the Earth. Where they would destroy, kill, take over.

He sighed, tearing his eyes away. And he could tell from Thor's sharp eyes on him that he knew exactly what Loki was thinking.

"It's not over yet, Loki," he said, ever the idiotic optimist. Of course it was over. It had been over from the moment the Other had broken through his mind. It had been over once he’d landed on Midgard.

"There must be a way to close the portal," the captain said, his costume covered in those ridiculous stars and stripes shining, and Loki realized he was looking at him.

"If there is, I don't know it," Loki answered. "I didn't even know how to build it. That's why I needed the mortal doctor that Thor likes so much."

"Selvig?" Thor frowned, even as he swayed on his feet, the metal contraption under them tilting dangerously. Loki just shrugged, shifting one foot back so he stayed in place.

"Then, Selvig would know how to shut it down?" Banner asked, still strapped down in his seat.

"Perhaps."

"Hang on," Romanoff called back. She was seated behind the controls, her teeth gridded as they descended. "This is going to be a bumpy landing."

* * *

Natasha brushed herself off, sparing only one glance back for the smoking quinjet behind her. Clint would have been able to do better. She wasn't a pilot. Not really. Not like him.

"Everyone alright?" Steve asked, his voice echoing down the paved street. She could just make out his form through the dust and the dark and that strange glow that seemed to be coming from the portal almost immediately above them. She stared up at it—at where Clint probably was.

"We are uninjured," Thor answered, appearing next to her with Loki by his side. They both looked unfazed, not even dirt in their hair. Which, really, how she was surprised, she didn't know.

"Where's—" Steve started, but the word had barely left his mouth before he was half blasted off his feet, the arrow that was all too familiar sticking into the ground at his feet.

Natasha spun around, looking up at the lone figure standing up on the edge of the roof, staring down at them. Then she was running, leaping over a still smoking piece of metal even as she heard Steve call out her name.

* * *

Tony ducked another attack from one of the flying chitauri things, JARVIS saying something in his ear about defensive strategy that he didn't _really_ have time to consider if he wanted to keep all his limbs.

Which he did. Rather a lot actually.

He ducked behind the side of a building, narrowly dodging one of their evil beam things as it smashed into the pillar to his right, and he was sweating inside his suit, his breathing heavy, fast, descending into tiny gasps of air, his heart rate unusually unsteady. He couldn't keep going much longer, but he had about a dozen on his tail, and he couldn't exactly _stop_.

He swerved around a building corner, turning left suddenly and firing off a repulser shot before the little monster could get out of the way. 1 down, 11 more to go.

"Energy at 13% capacity, sir," JARVIS said, and Tony had to bite his lip hard to stop himself from screaming something foul into his helmet. He didn't have time to run out of battery.

Unfortunately, his battery situation distracted him from his being chased situation, letting one of the chitauri's blaster things catch him across the metal armor of his ribs. His helmet lit up immediately, the red lights flashing across his face as the searing pain shot down his ribs.

He tried to duck around another building as he saw one of them raise their stupid blaster space gun looking things, but he was too slow, the thing firing before he had time to move out of the way.

He turned his head, preparing for the blow, only for a strange flash of green to light across his vision. Tony gasped as he found himself no longer in the path of the blaster. Lightening ripped through the chitauri that had been following him, a green and black cape draping in front of his vision and keeping him from seeing the destruction

He titled his head up to find Loki staring down at him. He was in what must have been his full armor, those ridiculous green and gold horns on his head, his long black hair falling around his neck. His cape around his shoulders with that gold plate armor running up his arms and chest. And Tony had thought he'd looked good in his leather.

"What are you doing?" Tony snapped, already feeling the blush creeping up his neck and cheeks, and thank whatever deity there was that he had his face plate on, because what was he doing thinking about Loki in leather?

"Saving your good for nothing life apparently," Loki answered, promptly dropping him, which Tony hadn't even realized Loki had been holding him up until he'd let go, sending Tony sprawling across the dirt.

"Friend Stark!" Thor said, running up to them. He had a faint smudge of dirt on his left cheek, his hair _slightly_ messier than the last time Tony had seen him. Otherwise, they both seemed fine. Just fine after taking on a dozen evil aliens. Why not?

"We saw you in distress," Thor told him.

"I wasn't in distress," Tony answered, climbing to his feet with a muffled groan that did nothing to help his claim. Loki smirked over his shoulder, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "I was improvising," Tony insisted.

"See, Thor," Loki said. "I told you he would have been fine if we left him for the chitauri."

"But you said we needed to help—" Thor started.

"Where are the others?" Loki interrupted, turning abruptly away from Thor, his green eyes intense, and Tony couldn't help but feel a dazed sort of confusion. Did Thor mean to say that _Loki_ had been the one to insist on helping Tony? Why would Loki care? Why would he insist he didn't? Why-

"Stark?" Loki snapped, his voice low and annoyed, and Tony narrowed his eyes. He figured now wasn't exactly a good time for self-evaluation anyway. He'd have to corner Loki after they survived this stupid battle. It wasn't like they didn't have other things to talk about.

"I haven't seen anyone," he said. "I've been being chased around by your aliens."

"They're not _my anything_ ," Loki answered, his eyes flashing a dangerous green.

"We need to—" Thor started, either ignoring or oblivious to his brother's mood as he looked around.

"Stark," Loki interrupted, his hand closing around Tony's shoulder and yanking him out of the way as a group of chitauri appeared out of nowhere, these ones holding a strange kind of cattle prod looking thing.

* * *

Natasha ran up the stairs of the building, her feet as light as she could make them, and hoping against hope that Clint would still be there when she reached the top. She could feel Steve right behind her, his breathing unnervingly even as he followed her up.

He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. She could feel how much he didn't approve of her running off without him having to say it. But this was Clint. It was Clint, and he needed her, and she didn't know how to not be there when he needed her.

She threw the door to the roof open, hearing it clang against the wall as she did. Clint was still standing on the edge of the roof to her right, his bow in hand, his quiver over his shoulder. He looked deadly. He looked unstoppable. He had always looked lethal with a bow in his hand, that dangerous look in his eyes.

Now he didn't even look like himself. No sarcasm, no humor, no recognition. Nothing. It was as if he was empty.

She stepped forward, her hands tight around her batons. She could have used something else, some other weapon. It would have been safer to use her gun, but she didn't actually want to hurt him. The only reason she pulled her batons out in the first place was because he had his bow. Steve stepped up beside her, his face grim, focused, and they were moving toward forward in the next second.

Clint fired off three shots before they got to him, one bouncing off Steve's shield, two Natasha dodged as she got closer. Steve threw his shield at Clint's chest, missing him as he moved at the last second. And Clint was firing off another two shots, one right after the other.

Natasha moved out of the way just in time, her batons coming down beside Clint's leg with a snap before coming back up and twisting around his bow. He either had to drop it or break his arm.

He dropped the bow, and Steve was suddenly right there, his shield colliding with Clint's back, sending him stumbling forward. He just managed to catch himself before Natasha brought her baton down along the side of his head with a crack, sending him to the ground, unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter on this part. I'm not sure if I've mentioned this, but I do want to clarify that this is a Part One of Three. So, after next week, I'm going to be taking a short hiatus to finish up Part Two and then we'll be back. Thanks for reading!


	12. When Battle's End with Bangs and Bombs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to everyone who's read and commented and left kudos. I'm going to be taking a two week hiatus before posting the beginning of the second part, so the first chapter will be up on March 20th. I hope you'll join me then, and thanks again for all the support!

Stark pushed Loki's hand away as the chitauri appeared in front of them. Loki didn't even bother to react. It was hardly the first time someone had shoved his help away. It wouldn't be the last.

These chitauri were the ground soldiers, and as much as Loki didn't want to admit it, he knew their weapons would still hurt if they hit him. Of course, Thor was an idiot who charged ahead without a second thought anyway, pounding his hammer into the ground between them and the soldiers, sending half a dozen flying, sparks blasting off their skin before either Loki or Stark could move.

"Well," Stark muttered. "That works."

"Sure," Loki rolled his eyes. "If you're half-arsed and destructive." Stark laughed, a strange throaty sound that Loki could barely hear through his suit, and yet, still _there_.

"We need to close the portal," Thor said, turning toward them, eyes dark and serious. He didn't even bother to show off his kill as he would have always done in the past. Loki would have been surprised if he was capable of being surprised anymore.

"It's not like we know how," Stark answered, the face plate on his suit popping up.

"You said Selvig would know," Thor said, turning back toward Loki as if he had all the answers. Loki almost sighed at the idiot, except he supposed it was almost his own fault. Thor had always looked at him for answers when they were in the middle of a losing battle, and Loki had always had something for him. He shouldn't be surprised Thor hadn't changed in the time he'd been gone.

"No," Loki answered. "I said Selvig _might_ know."

"Would you be able to release him from his mind control?" Stark asked.

"No!" Loki snapped, making an effort to get his voice under control. He could feel the shiver that went through his mind at the very idea of brushing against the Other's control again. He wondered if Stark could see his fear, if he could taste it on his tongue. It had to be obvious. "Why in Hel would I even—?"

"Can't you at least try?" Stark snapped. "We're kind of in the middle of a war here."

"And that's my responsibility?"

"Uh, kind of," Stark answered. "You did steal the tesseract, mind control Selvig, and invite, you know, an alien army." Loki felt surprisingly stung by the accusations. He shouldn’t have expected Stark to continue to defend him. It was foolish.

He should have expected nothing, because to Stark he was just another criminal. A criminal who had only been worth saving for the part he could play. Worth yelling at for the damage he'd caused. Stark glared back at him, defiant and spurring and Loki shouldn't have been upset. He'd had centuries to lean how not to let people get under his skin, but Stark was different.

Somehow, someway, Stark made him want to reach forward and rip the man open and make him look anywhere but at him with that judgement in his eyes.

"Technically, I think I've rescinded my invitation by now," Loki said, forcing his face into the flat plains of indifference.

* * *

Natasha leaned over his body, feeling along the large bump in Clint's hairline. He was still unconscious, and he wouldn't be coming around for a while. Steve turned to the other side of the roof, the doomsday machine still buzzing away. Selvig staring up at the sky where more and more chitauri were pouring out.

She could hear the chaos in the streets around her, the sounds of people panicking and screaming and begging to no avail. She knew she should have been down there, _doing_ something, _anything,_ but she couldn't tear her eyes away from Clint's face, from the way his eyes flicked behind his eyelids as if he were dreaming.

"Natasha," Steve said, his voice quiet, urgent. She stepped away from Clint, letting his head fall back to the hard cement without bothering to look back down at him. He wouldn't want her to coddle him.

"We need to find a way to shut it off," Steve said.

"I bet he knows," Natasha nodded toward Selvig, who wasn't even bothering to look over at them, his eyes intent on the portal above his head.

"Maybe," Steve answered, but he stepped after her, saying nothing of the batons already back in her hands at they approached.

Selvig didn't even bother to try and turn away as they neared. He just looked straight at them, his bright blue eyes full of a frantic kind of light that Natasha didn't even want to think about.

"Turn it off," Steve said, his voice pitched low as if he were issuing an order. Selvig just shook his head.

"There's no going back. No turning it off," he answered. "This is the future."

Natasha wondered if being exposed to the tesseract for so long had driven him insane. If it could have driven Clint insane. With the reactions of both Loki and Selvig in front of her, it was hard to ignore how probable the idea was.

"Sir," Steve said, taking another step forward, his gloved hands outstretched.

He didn't get the chance to say anything before the portal above them flashed a bright blue, pulsing once, twice, three times before a giant form tumbled through. It almost flew through the air as its the black exoskeleton revealed it to be a chitauri.

"Oh, God," Steve muttered, his eyes locked on the form floating above them. Natasha couldn't help but agree as another came after it and another. The third, tilted left, it's wing or whatever catching the edge of the building and spraying cement and asphalt down on them. She gripped her batons as smaller chitauri jumped from its back, running toward them with their spear-like weapons brandished.

They were quick, their spears jabbing at her almost faster than she could dodge, and they had Steve and her backed up to the edge of the building almost before she knew what happened. Spears at their front and a 20-foot drop at their back. Steve's face was hard, his shield clutched tight in his hands, but for every chitauri he threw back or smashed in the face, another just took their place.

Natasha had given up on her batons a little more than half-way through, stealing one of the chitauri's spears and using their own laser ray against them as they approached.

It didn't matter. It was a losing battle.

She didn't know how long they stood on the edge of the building before she was forced to take another step back, her heel catching on the lip and sending her tumbling down and over. She clamped her jaw shut to the scream that wanted to tear its way out of her throat as she saw herself reflected in the windows, hanging off the side of the building, supported only by Steve's arm as he reached over, his teeth gridded in pain.

He looked down at her, blue eyes dark and painful and hopeless, and she almost couldn't help but let the bitter laugh out when they slipped off the side of the building together, the loud sound of the chitauri chittering above them.

* * *

Tony was just opening his mouth to snap back at Loki when the echoing roar of the chitauri sounded in the air around them. He turned on his heel, staring over at the airborne thing that was making its way over the city.

"What the fuck is that?" he asked. Loki said nothing, his face ashen and pale as Thor grunted, hefting his hammer.

"We must shut down the portal," he said as if that wasn't already obvious. As if they hadn't already stated it. Loki scowled, still stubbornly saying nothing.

"Let's go," Tony said, his suit making an uncharacteristic creaking sound as he moved forward. He was almost out of battery. Only 10%, but it wasn't like he was going to be able to stop and get a recharge any time soon. Loki's green eyes locked on him for a second too long, angry, dangerous, and then a voice that sounded a little like JARVIS whispered inside Tony's head that Loki was unstable, that maybe Tony _shouldn't_ be pushing him. And yet, he couldn’t make himself afraid.

They made quick work of most of the chitauri they ran into. Between Thor and Loki and Tony, they had plenty of weapons. Besides the fact that Thor and Loki just moved like a team. Even with Loki clearly mad at Thor, and Thor wary of Loki's mood, it was more than obvious they'd been fighting together for a long time, reading each other's body language and moving before the other even had to say something.

It left Tony feeling strangely like a third wheel. And he didn't do third wheels in any parts of his life.

Eventually, they stopped next to the building with the portal on the roof, the blue light flickering high in the air above them. Tony panted into his suit, feeling hot, short of air. He was only at 5% battery. Loki scowled up at the building, his horns curving up and casting shadows around his face, his body covered in dark green leather, and he looked just as menacing as when Tony had first met him. Just as prepared to do something horrible.

"Loki—" Tony started.

"Friend Stark!" Thor interrupted him, a chitauri suddenly appearing to his right. Thor crushed its skull but another one took its place. Tony was turning to help when a large piece of brick suddenly struck him across his helmet almost knocking him to the ground.

He raised his hand, ready to defend himself, only to see two figures hanging over the side of the building, hands locked.

"Oh, dear," Loki muttered from Tony's side, his green eyes cast upward. He too was looking on the now slipping figures above them. "Do you think they'll fall?"

"That's not helping," Tony snapped. And then they were falling, the flash of red hair against a black suit and spangly stars and stripes reflecting against the windows of the office building.

"Jarvis, thrusters," Tony snapped, and he went a foot off the ground before there was a stuttering sound, and he landed hard again.

"You do not have enough battery to maintain flight, sir," Jarvis answered.

"Shit," Tony snapped, staring up.

"That's unfortunate," Loki said, his voice a mock calm that made Tony wonder if he would break his hand if he hit him.

"Do something!" he snapped. Loki just raised an eyebrow.

"What do you want me to do? I can't fly."

"You..." Tony answered, before turning his back on the god. He had a feeling Loki was lying. Not about the flying part but about the not being able to do anything part. He'd just decided not to help, and Tony didn't have time for Loki’s moods.

He watched as Romanoff and Rogers continued to fall. Past the 20th floor, 15th, 12th. Before a large green blur appeared out of nowhere, yanking them out of the sky, grabbing hold of the side of the building and almost smashing into the ground a few yards away from them.

Tony stared as the Hulk set Romanoff and Rogers on the ground, whipping his nose as he stared over at Tony, Loki, and Thor—who'd dispatched the last of the chitauri in the area.

"I guess we know where the beast is," Loki said, his eyes dark and careful as he watched the Hulk take off toward the chitauri floating in the air now heading in their direction.

"Maybe don't call him that?" Tony suggested. Loki didn't answer, which Tony figured was as close as he was going to get to an acknowledgement that he was right.

The Hulk gave them a strange break in fighting. They were all battered, bleeding in at least one spot—well, except Loki. Which Tony didn't know how he'd managed to do but whatever. Tony himself was pretty much out of battery. The only thing his suit was at this point was armor. Heavy, uncomfortable, useless armor. Romanoff kept glancing up at the top of the building, and Tony couldn't figure out if it was because she really wanted to shut down the portal or if there was something else up there. Steve just looked anxious, his helmet gone, and his hair a mess, and honestly, Tony was 90% sure he looked better this way. Thor kept sneaking worried glancing at Loki, who was alternating between glaring at the sky and Tony.

"We need a plan here," Steve said finally. "We tried running in, and it didn't work. We need to try and be organized."

"Not my style," Tony answered immediately. He didn't even know why he was arguing at this point. It wasn't as if he would do anyone good anymore. He was just being an ass because he could. And from the way everyone looked at him, they knew it too.

"No one cares about your style, Stark," Loki snapped, his right hand flicking almost faster than Tony could follow. There was a bright flash of green energy, coiling around Tony's suit, and causing the lights to flicker once, twice before they all come back online again, twice as bright.

"Power at 100%, sir," Jarvis' voice sounded in his head. Tony turned to Loki, trying to keep his expression neutral. Because, yeah, supervillian going from being fine with letting his friends die to helping to recharging his suit was something he hadn't expected.

"What did you just do?" he asked. It wasn't like Loki hadn't already done it when they'd been stranded together, and both his core and his suit had been out of juice, and Loki had waved his magic fingers and restored his battery.

It was just… disturbing when he did it while Tony wasn’t brainwashed.

"I did think your intelligence was higher than that, Stark." Loki sneered at him.

"Loki," Thor said, his hand falling heavily on his brother's shoulder. "Calm down."

"I am calm," Loki answered, shaking Thor's hand off with an angry twist of his lips.

"Right," Roger's muttered, blinking hard as he tried to continue the speech he'd obviously been preparing to give. "We need a plan. We need to shut down the portal and concentrate the attack on us, not the civilians."

"I'll head back up to the roof—" Romanoff started.

"No,” Rogers interrupted. “You're staying down on the ground with me."

"But—"

"Barton is still up there, and you're too close to him," Rogers said. "Besides, even if you get up there, you won't know how to shut down the portal." Rogers hesitated, waiting for just long enough that Tony noticed before he turned to Loki, his eyes wary. "You can shut down the portal."

"I can?" Loki answered, raising one skeptical eyebrow. "Good to know."

"Thor," Rogers said. "I want you to cover him. Stark, help take out some of the soldiers in the air while Natasha and I stay down here."

"Sounds great," Tony muttered, and he tried to sound sarcastic. He did, but he couldn't help but feel vaguely relieved that they suddenly had a plan. That they had a plan and that he didn't have to be the one to come up with it.

* * *

Loki sighed as they climbed up the stairs of the building. Thor's heavy footsteps echoed behind him, and Loki was already starting to hear the sound of the portal humming above them. He didn't understand why they'd sent him up here. Why they were so sure he could do something. Why he was even going up just because a mortal in a colorful outfit had told him to. He didn't care whether they lived or died.

Sure, they hadn't been overly cruel to him, but that was only because they needed him. It was only because they had a use for him. Thor's hand on his shoulder—Stark's kind words all came with the condition he give up his mind for them, his sanity, his freedom. Stark had made that only too clear.

"I believe you can do this, Loki," Thor said, his voice loud in the stairway. He almost sounded as if he was telling the truth.

"That makes one of us," Loki muttered. He could hear Thor frown, the rusted gears turning in his head, but he didn't answer. Probably lacked the brain cells.

The roof was clear of chitauri when they arrived, only the scientist that he'd brainwashed there. His hair whipped around his face, electric blue eyes wide. Loki shoved the bile down. He shoved the anger away.

He didn't even know who he was angry at anymore. Rogers for sending him up here with no real plan. Thor for saying he still believed in him. Stark for standing in front of him and saying things he didn’t mean. Himself for everything else.

"Eric!" Thor called, his voice catching in the wind. Loki craned his neck, looking up at the portal pulsing above them. They didn't have much time before the next wave came through. If he was going to close the portal, he needed to do it soon.

"Eric, you must help us!" Thor tried again, but the scientist just stared back at him, his blue eyes wide and blank, and Loki could vividly remember when their minds had been connected. When he had been able to feel Selvig's thoughts pulsing through his mind, cold and logical and clouded.

"You won't be able to reach him," Loki answered, stepping forward. He looked into the scientist eyes, stepped his mind forward and then fell.

His mind was a confusing web of tangled blue thoughts and patterns repeating themselves, wrapped around each other and looped into circle after circle until the scientist was locked inside his own head, his will a slave to the staff. Loki had no idea how to break the spell. He didn't even want to try. Didn't want to touch the blue web. He had no idea what would happen to him if he did.

He might fall back into their control, into the hazy half-conscious unwilling subjugation he'd been forced to partake in as before. He might never be able to leave Selvig's mind again. As weak as it sounded, he knew he wouldn't survive a second mental round with the Other. His sanity wouldn't. It almost hadn't the first time around.

He remembered again Stark's question of whether he could break the human's mind control. Thoughtless, tossed out as if it wasn't something Loki should fear, and he couldn't stop the anger that shot through his mind, down into Selvig's. They all thought themselves better than him.

He forced himself to creep forward, through the scientist's mind, avoiding the blue strands, sidling along the outskirts and looking for the thread of thought he was looking for. Building the portal. Shutting it down.

And saw nothing.

If the scientist knew the answer, it was lost in the blue web, tangled in his thoughts and run amok with the tesseract, and the only way he was going to get it would be to wade in himself.

Which he wasn't going to do.

He wasn't.

He was already starting to withdraw from the mortal's mind when he felt something touch his shoulder—his body's shoulder. Thor's hand heavy and rough against his skin, his voice echoing into Loki's subconscious as he spoke. From so far down, it was hard for Loki to hear the desperation in Thor's voice.

"Loki, the next wave is coming through. I'll keep them at bay as long as I can manage, but you must hurry. We must close the portal soon."

Loki expected the wave of anger to wash through him, hot and heavy, but it was slower coming than he remembered, less focused, lost. He was left with the vague idea that he had no idea with whom he was angry _with_. Thor was standing above him _again,_ relying on him _again._ They asked everything with no thought of what it would do. Just as Thor had always done, and if Loki helped him, he would probably receive no recognition. No reprieve from the All-Father's inevitable punishment.

So, why did he _care?_ Why did he want to turn around to plunge back into the scientist's subconscious and risk his own sanity on the off chance he might save his brother's foolish planet?

They had done nothing for him. They had bound him in chains and asked him everything he'd done wrong and when they knew the answer, they'd demanded he fix it for them. They had done nothing for him except—

Except, look at him with dark brown eyes—really look instead of assuming they already knew. Instead of thinking they already has the full story. That he was all evil.

It shouldn't matter. He shouldn't care. He didn't _want_ to care.

He dove into tangled blue web of the scientist's mind, already feeling the strands catch at him, trying to pull him down and away. Trying to wrap him up. He yanked against them, shoving them away from the scientist's mind, cutting across them as he searched, and the further in he went, the more he could feel Selvig's consciousness waking up under his own.

In the back of his subconscious he could still hear Thor fighting, the thundering of his hammer and lightening, but he refused to stop until he found the thread. The memory of Selvig building the machine. The one fail-safe the man had built in.

When he found it, the relief was palpable. Loki stepped back, out, away. He could feel the blue strands of the Other clinging to him, and the icy shot of terror that seized hold of him shouldn't have happened—not after everything, not after how far he'd gone already—but it did, and he couldn't move.

He was falling again, watching as the blue webs leapt from Selvig's mind into his, tangling his thoughts together, wrapping them around, leaving him feeling hazy and bereft. He could feel his body opening his eyes, Thor's face hovering above him, the shock showing along his face when he saw how Loki's eyes were blue instead of green.

Loki could feel the terror just below the surface of his mind, fighting to escape, just below reach, but all he could do was watch as it sank further and further down. Thor was shaking him now, his name shouted into his face, but Loki just stared back, unsure if he was a friend of foe.

"I hope you guys know how to close the portal," a voice suddenly spoke up, and something deep in Loki's mind sparked, hot and cold, and he blinked. "We've got a bogey incoming."

The words didn't mean anything, but the voice did. The voice was low and masculine and—friendly. A friend

"Loki," Thor spoke again, and his eyes seemed to catch the change in Loki's face as he spoke. " Stark needs us to close the portal."

Stark? A friend. Stark.

The words tugged one of the strands of his memory, not quite covered in blue webs, and he could feel the tangled mess begin to unravel, the pain already spreading through his head, leaping around as if it was fire. He could _see_ the blue nesting inside his mind, but he didn't have time to fight it. Didn't even know if he could.

"You can close the portal with my staff," he said.

"What?" Thor answered, always two steps behind.

"My staff. The one the chitauri gave me. You can interrupt the flow of the machine. It'll work."

"But—"

"Quickly. The man, Barton, that I first took has it," Loki interrupted, and he watched as Thor stood, his cape billowing out behind him, red like the fire burning along the back of Loki's mind. The blue was still trying to race its way across his mind, but the harder he pulled on his memories, the less ground it gained, and the more his mind _hurt_.

He watched as Thor approached the device, picking up Loki's staff from where it lay in the nest of arrows attached to Barton's unconscious back. Thor slid the device into the slot of the machine, Stark's flying suit appearing out of nowhere, the cylindrical metal thing hoisted on his back as he flew straight up and into the portal.

"No!" Loki cried out, already it was too late. Thor had already inched the staff forward, the portal closing with a snap and leaving the sky blue and clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, such a bad cliffhanger. Sorry lovelies. Anyway... the first part of part two will be up March 20th. Thanks again for reading!


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